The Mirror of Frodo

- jan-u-wine

(I find myself
very busy,
of a sudden,
in the garden.)

The Sun
journeys West:

fire-scalded
clouds
fly
in her wake.

It is fall.

The flowers
prepare
for their long
sleep;

The leaves
lay
deep
upon the ground

They are
sighing
as they fall towards me-

In my mind,
I walk within
Lothlorien.

The Lady:
She is here!

She beckons:
(as ever)
I follow.

This is not
Her
Sacred wood,

merely
A Hobbit’s
humble garden.

I come back
to myself:

Here is
My
mirror:

An old
rain-filled tub
reflecting
nothing
more evil
than
my startled
laugh.

Never
have I been
more
sure
of my simple
heart.

I kneel
Among
the leaves
in wonder
at their plain
beauty.

The soil
of the garden
lies dark
in the palm
of my hand.

It is
as if
it
sings
to me:

In its
resonant
sweetness,
I hear
Life.

Life:
How different
that word
sounds
to me now.

It speaks
of  joyous
endlessness
and
promises
fulfilled.