The Mirror of Myself

 

The Mirror of Myself

Many shun the mirror

hating it as if it were a living entity.

I, on the other hand, am obsessed with it’s possibilities.

What better sketch of her could I have?

Isn’t it her face that mine is half of?

I have stared long & hard

memorizing each feature, the curve of the brow

the very pattern of pores

spotted here and there with sun freckles

hoping to have instantaneous recognition when I meet her.

Yes, I will meet her, I know this in my soul.

But will reality reveal the lie of the mind’s mirror,

that I am her & she is me?

Will I find that I am my own person and

have been all along,

only needing validation that I am myself?

When you look into a mirror, what is reflected is eternity,

relinquishment clouds that

an arrogant silence upholding the greater good slowly binds it.

I want to see, will you help me?