Poem

mirror

the dark pool in the middle of the wood
is a black mirror for scrying

I stand close to the edge
and look down at a reflection of the sky
where a plane trail like a wide white road
reminds me I must follow my own pathway

I throw in gifts for the water spirits
a pine cone
a patterned leaf
a mussel shell

a small white feather floats to earth
a sign that my wishes will be granted

I pick it up and place it between the pages of my notebook
as a touchstone for my journey