Snared

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Deeds are the pulse of Time, his beating life,

And righteous or unrighteous, being done,

Must throb in after-throbs till Time itself

Be laid in stillness, and the universe

Quiver and breathe upon no mirror.

~George Eliot, Daniel Deronda

Your deeds are not in mirrors.  They might be

In glass, be trapped in glass forever till

The glass is molten.  They are what we see

When looking at you.  Deeds  are seldom still

Unless they are omissions waiting for

True acts — and even then the glass will hold

Them ruthlessly.  There is no open door

To save you from them.  Pasts of old

Will not release them.  Futures will present

Them ever new to eyes.  A two-way glass

Will still allow the scene.  If you resent

That fact, too bad.  Your deeds will never pass.

  Since not in glass they linger always, can’t

    Be shattered.  They are what you can’t recant.

© Phillip Whidden