Published to BirchLane.org March 7, 2001

Mirrors and Shadows

 

Dear Amber, Heather is right, of course

The light , it is light, in the mirror is

An image, a photograph caught

In the moment of our desires

We are young and we are

In love, my wife and I

Are 24 and 18 and we have

Only love, when I look

I see

It is Wednesday

It is March

It has stopped snowing

It is my 49th year to Heaven

The photographs are mirrors

One night Heather called

And left me a note

"Photographs and shadows are

Not the same, please"

The shadow is the dark shape cast

When I stand between the surface

And the source of light, the mirror reflects

The light, I see

Full name please

Bruce Daryl Barone

Nickname, none

Occupation please

Sales, sometimes I exaggerate

To tell the truth

New Jersey born

First exhibited in Holy Name Hospital

Around 1952

This is an answer

Whatever the senses apprehend resembles an illusion

Including everything

Ranging from mental concepts to living things

Millions of memories of history

Religion must have played a part

And does still

Angels, devils, paradise

After this I heard

What seemed to be a mighty voice

Of a great multitude in Heaven crying

The cathedral itself was a triumph

Over space and the scene was always set

I was thankful to to have percieved this

Thankful for my B.A. in Art History and English

William Blake wrote

"Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?

Or wilt thou go and ask the Mole?

Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?

Or Love in a golden bowl?"

Seeking to find the balance between

Our light side and shadow side

To prepare the ground for the spiritual

Experience, the marriage of opposites

It is a wonder

That it is

All connected

Or perhaps

The photograph in the mirror

Shows the

The reflective moment when I ask

Who am I

Where did I come from

Where am I going

Where is it written

I cannot still enjoy The Clash and Chopin

The same questions, the same images

Repeating like quarter notes on the snare drum

I played in Junior High School Band one

Two three four one two three four

Write one for me

And music that too

Is language

Beethoven transformed the first few bars

Metaphor is repetition

All connected

That it is

Is a wonder

In a favorite book the author writes

"And as he read and didn't find the answer

To the secret, he made a resolution

That he would someday write the book

That would unlock the riddle of the earth

Of Raintree County, of his mother and father,

And himself......then perhaps

He would recapture the word

Which had been from the beginning,

Which had awakened him from sleep

And touched his ears with music and

Ecstasy, a word that quivered

Through the grove and caused the tree to shiver

And send down a rain of yellow and unusual,"

In the mirror image I can see

The snow of Spring

Outside I see a favorite movie forming

On the street, "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie"

A projector light illuminates the face

Of a friend who writes to say

"Your letters are like poems"

And I wrote her once

About the strangest job I ever had

Stripping tobacco, rain, cold November mornings

Holding damp stalk in left hand, ripping leaves

Down and off with right, in a dark barn

Pioneer Valley, with an old farmer

Less his left pinky, left big

Toe and touch in his right hand

"They went right in an'got it"

The vein, this, for three or four

Dollars an hour, mirror mirror

On the wall, an image

Moments in my life I want to experience

Again, my wedding day or the time we

Walked along the Ramapo River

A bottle of wine in hand (I still

Prefer red or a vodka martini)

And the birth of Danielle, Daryl

All the days of their lives

Any Christmas morning

Psalm: I am a believer

In God and I pray everyday

Meditate and exercise, I am

An admirer most of my mom and dad

Who taught me the most important lessons and carols

Smile and do

Unto others as you would have them do unto you

I am truly moved by Kandinsky

Picasso, Chardin, Rogier van der Weyden

I am a gourmet cook and people

In High School thought I was

A jock, I am sometimes

A procrastinator, I am

A good friend, I am

Someone who has difficulty saying

No, this photograph is a mirror

In which we see

This is a happy time

Last summer I am chaperoning

(Heather you saw the photographs)

Daryl and his friends

Tim, David, Andrew, Alisa, Leah,

Alysa, Katie, Ericka (each name a poem)

At Six Flags New England

One girl gets a black eye, fainting

While waiting in line to buy french fries with Daryl

Have you ever fainted before I ask her

No, never, she says and I think of

All the happy songs I've sung and prayers

I've said to Daryl and Danielle

Frere Jacques, Let's Go Fly a Kite

The Lord's Prayer

The best gift I've ever received is this

My children, my wife, my love

My life, every spring I have

Planted new seeds

And waited for the roots

To take hold in the earth

Behind our house

I saw the monkeys in the tree

At the corner and talked with the bear

In our yard, I saw the blue light

In the snow and stars at night

In this photograph the mirror image tells

Me yesterday I was thirty

Today I am 49 and still

Believe in love, art and I wish

You were here, having

A great time.

Bruce

--for Heather and Amber--