Not many people know that I write poetry, and that’s because I’ve only ever shared my poetry with a handful of people. I thought maybe the time was right to share more. Sending everyone who sees this, and everyone who doesn’t, much peace.
The Mirror of My Future Self
The mirror of my future self
Reflects a past that’s not arrived;
The man I see seems tired
And I cannot turn aside;
A piercing glance: his look abets,
Says there’s little he regrets.
He sees me, and I see him
I am that man, this is my hymn.
And when our eyes lock
We’re mindful of the clock
Since only memories, not days, can be edited.
In short, we both know time is limited.
I am the mirror of my future self,
The reflection of my karma,
The actions that I’ve taken
When I walked away from Dharma;
The poisons that I drank,
The empty rifle in the tank,
The darkness and the dank,
What I’ve made from something blank,
And how we turned it all around
Before he fell into the ground:
It all convalesced here, with me,
By myself.
In the mirror of my future self.
—Christian Conte
