Down In The Valley (2)

The image in the mirror returned my gaze,
the moving different to me was another phase;
if a bird sees his own feathered collection,
it becomes an enemy purely on reflection.

We looked inwards to our soul, beyond feathers,
the way you do when your supposed to be lovers,
you don't know what's in my mind, a selection
of inadequacies, magical impossibilities, on reflection.

The window shutters creaked, blew sunlight your way,
showed the valley view of ages gone, come what may,
warriors guilty of breaking your heart with insurrection,
what comes back to you, brushes shoulders on reflection.

The bird was wrong, the picture was your greatest friend,
it forgot that between all of us, that love would transcend.