THE MIRROR OF MNEMOSYNE

Image by Erté

In Greek mythology, Mnemosyne was the mother of the nine Muses, and was also the personification of memory. But just how accurate, how reliable, are our memories? For when we look back at our life, how much of what we remember is real, and how much is what we’d have liked it to have been?

THE MIRROR OF MNEMOSYNE

Dark, still, enshadowed, the mirror of Mnemosyne,
Moonlight encircling its chill, quicksilvered face.
Standing beside it, the masked goddess of Memory,
Ageless, all-seeing, transcending time and space.

Dare for a moment to gaze into her looking-glass,
See what you may in its crystalline mirage,
Brimming with happiness, hope, despair, and tragedy,
Each mood reflected upon its pale visage.

Do not anticipate viewing your own imagery,
Nor will your past be recaptured and displayed.
All you will see is the sum of your remembrances,
Rose-tinged distortions, each summoned and replayed.

These are your yesterdays, edited and modified,
Transformed by memory, shaped and cast anew.
Now just as real as the past itself had ever been,
Dreams become history, tangible and true.

So, as you linger, your captive eyes still mesmerised,
Drawn through the depths of the mirror’s sable pool,
Who can be sure that the past is not a fantasy,
Mocking our minds like the laughter of a fool?