Poetry

A quiet
glistening
golden
light, shining back at me
through my mirror. but when I turn around, 
I see nothing.

Back, again, I look, 
at the mirror in front of me
and the light still gleams
so brightly
so strongly
I felt as if I could touch it...

So I did.
my hand went through the mirror
like it was going through 
a pool of water.
And so, as if by instinct
the rest of my body followed.

And in a moment, 
a moment which felt like eternity
I awoke. 
In what seemed like a rural village
of such a long, long time ago..

'Victoria! ' they called.
Who were they calling..? 
Could it be..? 
The people of the village flooded me.
They told me I hit my head while I was riding my horse
and fell off it's saddle.

Still today I sit here
In my front porch staring at the horses grazing
Especially at the one I fell off of, 
And remember.
Remember that single light
That brought me back home.