THE JOURNEY

rr THE JOURNEY

TO

MY MIND’S EYE

THROUGH

THE OVAL MIRROR

IN

MY CRIMSON ROOM
By Dr. Mel Waldman

Come with me, stranger, on the journey to my mind’s eye through the oval mirror in my crimson room.

Can’t bear to travel alone; so come with me and be my co-detective. I don’t know who I am. But together, we may solve this existential mystery.

I taste broken glass and sin, the color of gunmetal, and a dark gray sky spills its sadness and despair.

And the earth shrieks, caterwauls like a stray cat on the prowl after midnight in an alley of the dead and dying.

I smell rotting bones and flesh and listen to ancient ululations. The beasts howl in these ruins.

Sin corrodes in seawater and omnipotent oceans rush forth, shooting mammoth waves onto empty beaches.

A seething desert boils for the sun pours fire on the sand. My olive skin burns. I trudge across the fierce endless flow. I am barefoot, naked, and bereft.

Can’t bear to travel alone, so come with me, stranger, on this voyage into inner space. I don’t know why I am.

Gaze into the barren mirror. Discover a broken universe inside the oval looking glass hanging in the crimson room.

Inhale the miasma that permeates the putrid wasteland and the foul dream overflowing with rivulets of blood.

Breathe phantasmagoria, a breathless, apoplectic flow that sails across the dreamscape, away from the swirling sorrow from which I may never recover.

With my mind’s eye, I see the shattered landscape of my divided self. But with you, stranger, perhaps I will put the scattered shards of self together again.

A gold butterfly, you give me hope in the night and just before dawn when I dream healing dreams of oneness and peace. .

When I see your kind face, I hold a bouquet of butterflies in my heart and boldly, I gaze into the oval mirror. Slowly, the wasteland disappears. I inhale a perfumed rhapsody of love.

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