Tiresias, blind prophet, you could see:
Narcissus, blessed with beauty, would flourish
For so long as unknowing he could be;
Knowing himself would his fair blossom crush
Many are beguiled by you, bright mirror
No eyes meet ours as perfectly as thine
Some find, in your reversals, pure horror:
The teeth of truth can be sharp, serpentine
Narcissus sundered hearts, then clutched his own
No other could match his smooth, handsome face
Only a fool could a whole world disown
The better to know his own, cold embrace
Narcissus has some wisdom for our age:
Loving the self makes the mirror a cage
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This poem was prepared in response to Poppy's provocative prompt; you can find more information about her latest bouquet of them below:
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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