Phaedrus

Beautiful, in your beauty to my eye,
faintly reflected images are seen,
truths that I breathed before I left the sky.
Straining against my soul, uncurling, green,
bursting from veins, my wings are warm and clean.
Three thousand years from now, we'll reach the Prime;
we will arrive together as we fly.
I will instruct you, teach you not to lean,
bring you along as I begin to climb.

If there is pain in this, I'll show you why:
something amazing lives behind a screen.
Only through windows can we even try
to come to what Reality might mean,
yet we must make this mystery our queen.
Come very close, but do not touch. Our crime
smudging the glass would mar it, twist it wry.
All we can love is in the mirror's sheen;
mirror me as I mirror you through time.