Day Of Jubilee

Aislinn the Bard

There’s a mirror on my dresser
That came to me from my mother
And though the glass is cracked and scarred,
I like it more than any other
But as I gaze at my reflection,
I can see my mother crying
And I wonder if my life will be
The echo of her dying.

The mirror has a pearl handle
And gold around the frame
And the glass is marred by tears
And years of bitterness and shame
The mirror was my mother’s
And my grandmother’s before her
Iin its solemn heirloom beauty
Lurks a secret family horror.

My daughter with the mirror’s
Playing dress-up-like-a-lady
In high-heeled shoes and make-up—
She’ll be an actress someday maybe
The mirror’s cracks can’t hide her smiling
Or the laughter in her eyes
But in the secret nighttime will she ask
What truths the mirror hides?

The mirror has a pearl handle
And gold around the frame
And the glass is marred by tears
And years of bitterness and shame
And it will be my daughter’s soon
If the heirloom fate holds true
And I proceed around the bend—
Oh what am I to do?

And my brother’s barely forty,
And his wife spends her nights trying
To ease the painful moments
Of his living and his dying
And the question haunts me lately—
Am I better off not knowing?
Or standing up and trying to face
The manner of my going?

The mirror has a pearl handle,
And gold around the frame
And the glass is marred by tears
And years of bitterness and shame
My mother died when I was young
In a strange and senseless game
And I wonder if my mother’s fate
And mine will be the same?
Will my mother’s fate, my daughter’s fate
And mine all be the same?