The Mirror That Must Stay Covered

When a soul slips out at midnight
from a house on the hill,
there are things the living must do
and the first one is quite still.
Take the black cloth from the cupboard,
take the wool from off the chair,
cover every pane of glass
before the spirit lingers there.

For the dead must cross the doorway
with their eyes turned toward the night.
They must never see their faces
in the mirror's silver light.
If they catch their own reflection
while their spirit wanders free,
then the glass will close around them
and their soul will cease to flee.

It will stay behind the silver,
in a room without a door,
watching through the shining surface
at the ones who mourn below.
And the living have their warning,
spoken low from year to year,
never stare into that mirror
when the dead are waiting near.

So the windows must be covered,
every looking glass concealed.
Black cloth pinned across the panes
keeps the wandering spirit healed.
Keep the cabin dark as midnight,
keep each polished surface blind,
give the dead a road before them
and the living leave behind.

Yet one mirror may be hidden
where the darkness meets the wall.
One small piece of shining glass
can undo the care of all.
For the dead can see it waiting,
and the silver starts to gleam.
Then a face appears within it
like a face inside a dream.

Do not look.

The warning's simple.

Do not lift the cloth and see.
For the eyes behind the silver
may be eyes that once were free.
They may follow when you meet them.
They may hold you in their stare.
They may take your living spirit
and leave your reflection there.

That is why the cloth stays hanging.
That is why the room stays dim.
That is why the living tremble
when the mirror speaks of him.

For a scratching may come softly
from behind the woolen sheet.
Then the scratching may grow louder
like a hand against the glass.
And if the cloth should rise a little,
if the silver catches sight,
you may see the dead one waiting
with his face turned toward the light.

So keep your eyes upon the darkness.
Let the covered mirror be.
For the dead can leave their prison
when the living come to see.

And if the scratching starts again,
when the whole house has grown still,
remember what the mountain teaches
and remember it until

the cloth begins to tremble,
and the mirror starts to shine.

Do not look into the glass.

The face behind it
may be mine.

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