Poem Review: Mirrors
Ponder 2025 is born a little late, almost 100 days into the year. But I have an inkling that this could be a more profound discovery. As discussed, we are looking at the theme of humanity, especially in these times of worsening geopolitics and the evolution of artificial intelligence.
In this opening review of Ponder 2025, we reflect upon two poems. There is, of course, the real mirror — made of glass and mercury, and then the others, who reflect our characters.
The first poem is ‘Mirror’, by Sylvia Plath, who reflects the real mirror and the surface of a lake, and pens those poignant moments.
The second poem is ‘A Mirror Beyond Reflection’, by Pranav Rajesh, which reflects the human and beyond, which involves tumults and tears.
Let us dive and delve deep into these fantastic poems in our search for humanity.
This review is dedicated to the great Slyvia Plath, her poetry, and her fight against depression.
Poem 1: Mirror
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately.
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it for so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles, or the moon.
I see her back and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me, she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.~Slyvia Plath
Commentary on Poem 1:
What if the mirror is more than mercury and glass?
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately.
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
The act of showing a mirror carries significant meaning, especially when we understand its true nature. A mirror is pristine and made of metal; it possesses neither prejudice nor pride. It serves as a perfect reflection, revealing not only shapes but also the colors behind them. There is no distortion, no preference, no love, hate, or dislike. The mirror absorbs what it reflects and provides an unfiltered view of the observer. In summary, the light that comes from the object is faithfully returned to the viewer.
I am not cruel, only truthful‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
The mirror has four edges; let's assume it is square or rectangular. The frame creates the edges, while the mercury-coated glass forms the center. However, consider this perspective: it looks back at you, which makes it like an eye. When you gaze into the mirror, you are looking into the eyes of a 'little god.' This god is not cruel or unkind, but rather absolutely truthful.
“Truth is a mirror; those who fear their reflection break it.”
― Aloo Denish Obiero
The mirror reflects the truth. Some of us may not want to see our true selves, while others choose to see only what they want to see. However, if you confront what is actually there—your truth and your reality—you are facing the absolute truth.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Have you ever stood in front of a mirror? Yes, it reflects your image. But what comes next? The mirror essentially looks at whatever is in front of it — the opposite view, like a pink-speckled wall. This reminds me of the story of Bodhidharma and his wall-gazing meditation. It is said that he gazed at a wall for nine years during the later stages of his life.
“Those who turn from delusion back to reality, who meditate on walls, the absence of self and other, the oneness of mortal and sage, and who remain unmoved even by scriptures are in complete and unspoken agreement with reason” (The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma, p. 3).
It is remarkable to see how Sylvia Plath transforms the mirror into a wise sage in a state of 'samadhi', as understood in Eastern Buddhist tradition. This interpretation profoundly changes the existence of the opposite, pink, speckled wall.
The sensation further amplifies the depth of the experience that the stationary wall possesses life, as evidenced by its flickering. The feeling of oneness emerges when the "wall stares back at the mirror," transforming into a connection with one's heart, particularly as the mirror perceives the wall's flickering as if it were a heartbeat. Both the wall and the mirror become integral to a cherished oriental tradition.
There are interruptions and interludes, showcasing the faces of people who stop by to catch a glimpse of their reflections. Then, darkness intervenes. At night, when the lights are off, the mirror cannot see the wall. This dynamic transcends a simple wall-and-mirror relationship. The presence of people and the darkness serve as distractions in the quest for unity between the wall and the mirror.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
The lake’s surface reflects the beholder like a mirror. A woman turns to her true self — the one who has no dislikes or loves, just a straightforward reflection of her youth. She gazes deeply into the water to see if she is dressed well and looking good, perhaps even adjusting her lipstick. After encountering her honest reflection, she then shifts her attention to the flattering candles and the moon, which make her feel young and loved.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
The mirror is not only a truthful friend but also a loyal ally. As she gazes into the mirror, she comes to a poignant realization that makes her cry — the signs are undeniable, with tears flowing and her hands trembling. The mirror is her companion, faithful and honest to the point that it is her ‘agony ally.’
The text reveals deep personal aspects about Sylvia Plath. Phrases like "agitation of hands," "tears," and the mirror serving as a companion suggest a complex emotional state. She experiences a sense of coming and going. There is a hint of potential abuse in her relationship, which seems to have a "kick and kiss" dynamic. I'm not entirely certain, but I wanted to make a note of this observation.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
Remember the darkness that separates the mirror from the wall? Every morning, the woman breaks through this darkness. As she peers into the surface of the lake, she watches her youth drown while the ripples of old age, with their wrinkles, rise like terrible fish. When she loses her youth, anxiety sets in as she realizes she is getting older. Candlelight and moonlit dinners eventually become things of the past. Life, as it wears women down, reveals to them that youth is just a fleeting moment.
Poem 2: A MIRROR BEYOND REFLECTION
One stares into a mirror —
one does not see —
into the inner world, into the depths of nothingness —
that transcends gloom and glee
A realm where harmony and turmoil
seamlessly entwine
Infusing an abyss
too vast to define
All, somehow, confined within
An illusive, yet feverish dream
Chanced upon by a soul
whose eyes gleam
Such dreamy eyes
Off which tears roll
Feeding their reservoir
Where ripples unfold
Thicker and thicker they grow
Attempting to shape the soul’s path
Which but wanders capriciously
Circling round and round, yet nowhere cast
Up it soars
Fleeting high
Wreaking a maelstrom of turmoil
Too intense to defy
A turbulent tempest
That troubles the soul
That infiltrates
The tears that roll
The tears that fed the stream
Now wreaking a murky torrent
Wandering further than the maundering soul
Now surged with a veering lament
Further, it expands
Fading into the vast
The maelstrom subsides —
Now, a phantom of the past
The vestiges of the torrent,
now drifting bubbles
Lose themselves in space:
A salvation from struggle!
The ripples stagnate
The dream evaporates into thin air
All that is left
Is now a mirror — to stare
In a realm that exists no longer —
Of tranquil unrest —
Time — once but oblivion —
Is, now, a truth made manifest.
~ Pranav Rajesh, 19–2–2025
Commentary on Poem 2:
In this long poem, we explore the mind of a lonely, reticent, Gen Z youth.
One stares into a mirror —
one does not see —
into the inner world, into the depths of nothingness —
that transcends gloom and glee
A realm where harmony and turmoil
seamlessly entwine
Infusing an abyss
too vast to define
All, somehow, confined within
An illusive, yet feverish dream
Chanced upon by a soul
whose eyes gleam
As the poet suggests, a mirror is superficial. It reflects our moods, displaying our gloom and joy, happiness and sorrow. When we look into it, we see ourselves: We smile, and it smiles back; we grimace, and it grimaces in return.
However, beyond this reflection lies an inner world that can feel empty, devoid of meaning, and vacant. Within that emptiness lies everything — a self-contained abyssal universe where calm and chaos, turmoil and harmony, tranquility, and tumult coexist, vast beyond imagination.
The mirror reveals shining eyes. Behind those eyes lies a feverish and fervent dream illuminating the soul within.
These verses create a world beyond what the mirror displays. As the saying goes, the mirror reflects our face, and our face is a window to the mind, revealing our inner selves.
Such dreamy eyes
Off which tears roll
Feeding their reservoir
Where ripples unfold
Thicker and thicker they grow
Attempting to shape the soul’s path
Which but wanders capriciously
Circling round and round, yet nowhere cast
Up it soars
Fleeting high
Wreaking a maelstrom of turmoil
Too intense to defy
The shining, gleaming eyes we see are filled with tears. These tears are salty expressions of the heart, flowing copiously and filling the eyes to the brim. Like the pressure of water in a lake or dam, the sheer volume of tears builds up and exerts itself. Dreams turn to tears, and those tears transform into abundant rivers, crashing against the rocky interior and smoothing it out, reshaping the dilapidated soul in the process.
The awakened soul now has a new purpose, driven by dreams and fueled by tears. It floats and struggles in search of its identity, causing turmoil that cannot be ignored.
Let us summarize our understanding thus far. The mirror only reflects our eyes. Behind those eyes lies a universe that, although vacant, exists in harmony between tranquility and turmoil. The eyes themselves shine, glistening with tears, as dreams ebb and flow, nurturing the inner soul that seeks to discover its identity and purpose. It all began with someone staring into a mirror.
A turbulent tempest
That troubles the soul
That infiltrates
The tears that roll
The tears that fed the stream
Now wreaking a murky torrent
Wandering further than the maundering soul
Now surged with a veering lamentFurther, it expands
Fading into the vast
The maelstrom subsides —
Now, a phantom of the past
The storm that arises as the soul spirals into chaos strikes against a stream of tears. It feels like a double whammy of flood and cyclone for the unfortunate soul. What began as a feeling of “soaring and flying high” quickly transforms into a kite caught in a storm.
Unleashed and untethered, it wanders through a whirlpool of madness — the abyssal realm described by the poet, where emotions explode and expand before finally subsiding and surrendering to time and reflection. Eventually, a fresh, sunny morning emerges in silence and comfort, leaving the chaotic maelstrom behind.
The vestiges of the torrent,
now drifting bubbles
Lose themselves in space:
A salvation from struggle!
The ripples stagnate
The dream evaporates into thin air
All that is left
Is now a mirror — to stare
In a realm that exists no longer —
Of tranquil unrest —
Time — once but oblivion —
Is, now, a truth made manifest.
When the soul wanders and surveys the calm after the storm, it observes the remnants of the turmoil it endured. The storm itself proves to be a temporary event, much like bubbles that float and dissipate into the air. Now, the dreams, human ambitions, and desires that once stirred the soul into chaos have vanished. What remains are dry eyes staring at a mirror, devoid of tears.
The realm born from tears has vanished. The tears, the storm, the stream, and the chaos — along with the feelings of being lost and longing — were merely a dream, created from another dream. Now, it is time to awaken. This journey concludes in the mirror that reflects us, faithfully showing our empty, dreamless souls in our dry, blank eyes.
This poem unveils a mirror that reveals more than mere reflection; it invites us to explore the hidden depths of our souls. It offers a captivating glimpse into the intimate dance we share with our inner selves, exposing the enchanting visuals that lie behind the surface.
Mirror, Mirror:
Ponder 2025 is off to a magical start. Our first exploration of humanity focuses on reflections of ourselves as we stand in front of mirrors. It makes me consider a world without mirrors. Sylvia Plath’s poem introduces the idea of a tranquil lake’s surface, while also exposing the deeper human struggles beneath. Pranav Rajesh’s deep dive into the calm surface of the mirror reveals the complexities of the human soul, unleashing all the turmoil that lies within.
“Hestia sighed. ‘Stepping inside a mirror is like stepping into Pandora’s Box. It is a world of illusion and fragility. If the mirror is broken then so, too, will be whoever is inside the mirror at the time it is broken.”
― Frank Lambert, Xyz
Mirrors play an important role in our search for humanity, balancing illusion and reality, faithfulness and truthfulness, depth and surface.
~Ashok Subramanian © 2025
