Poetry

The Mirror

(For my father)

daddy

The Mirror
Frances Vetter

The opposite of vanity

my father’s request for a mirror

a few days

before he died.

Was it some sort of inner quest

a searching for form in formlessness,

a finding of clues

in a puddle of glass ?

Or perhaps he’d just remembered

the photos he’d seen on the mobile screen

of my sister’s phone

the day before.

Was he asking for the brand new toy,

calling it by the name of the old,

the hand mirror

of changing faces?

Captivated by invention

his mind alert to ‘new-fangled’ things,

to innovation;

he wanted to have a look.

They brought my father the mirror

It was on a Christmas morning.

But his humble smile

has left its trace

on the face of my phone now,

forever…

25th February 2010

I wrote this for my father, R.I.P. who died 30th December 2009.
A gentleman.

* * *

4 Comments

  • The Mirrow
    I have been today on a funeral from someone who was like a milestone and of great importance for my life. Now only a inner talk is left for what was not spoken out. Many, many musicians came and some gave a wonderful recital of european culture, organ, strings and voices like angels. His doughter held a overwhelming oration about and to her father, like I never heard before. And when she started with the words: My father was a very particular man, of course everyone is unique, but…she was right, he was a very particular man, who by doing an immense work for music he enriched many peoples life, as he did mine.. Music can be a mirror of love…
    The priest red the most beautiful poem we can’t remember enough..
    May be someone will read these lines, so I will leave it here for him:

    Gottesliebe
    Worte der Liebe
    Aus der christlichen, jüdischen und islamischen Welt

    Das Hohelied der Liebe

    (1 Korintherbrief 13,1-13)

    Wenn ich in den Sprachen der Menschen und Engel redete, /
    hätte aber die Liebe nicht, /
    wäre ich ein dröhnendes Erz oder eine lärmende Pauke.
    Und wenn ich prophetisch reden könnte /
    und alle Geheimnisse wüsste /
    und alle Erkenntnis hätte; /
    wenn ich alle Glaubenskraft besäße /
    und Berge damit versetzen könnte, /
    hätte aber die Liebe nicht, /
    wäre ich nichts.
    Und wenn ich meine ganze Habe verschenkte, /
    und wenn ich meinen Leib dem Feuer übergäbe, /
    hätte aber die Liebe nicht, /
    nützte es mir nichts.
    Die Liebe ist langmütig, /
    die Liebe ist gütig. /
    Sie ereifert sich nicht, /
    sie prahlt nicht, /
    sie bläht sich nicht auf.
    Sie handelt nicht ungehörig, /
    sucht nicht ihren Vorteil, /
    lässt sich nicht zum Zorn reizen, /
    trägt das Böse nicht nach.
    Sie freut sich nicht über das Unrecht, /
    sondern freut sich an der Wahrheit.
    Sie erträgt alles, /
    glaubt alles, /
    hofft alles, /
    hält allem stand.
    Die Liebe hört niemals auf. /

  • Losing that most important person in our lives is really painful. That is why it is very important to show all the love we have for them while they still with us.

    Regards,
    Karen

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