Sunday, August 19, 2012

The Over-looking Glass

While staring at the reflection, of my reflection, in my eyes,
I wondered which reflection held all the lies
I wondered how far the selves within selves could rise
and I pondered the depths of the truly wise
But while I was busy chasing these unknowable things
I knew there was more in my ethereal rings
I'd missed far too many of the simplest things
and from all that I missed, I discovered my wings
I missed the return of the softly changing atmospheric cues.
opalescent swirls spiralling the sparkle of coppery blues
I missed the splash of fresh air filter in and float through
as the tiniest measures of space opened their view
I missed the singing birds chorus plead a most melodious case,
While a perfect harmony of atoms danced at their base
I missed the scenic sun-soaked sky gripping my face
encrypted in intrepid tides, absolute endlessness within a finite space
There in the reflection of my projection
a timeless collection of self-deception
A slippery hold on an old infection
healed by injection of a new perception
For I'd passed by the turning world around me,
and ignored the vast universe inside me
Indeed, I missed all anyone could ever hope to see
and all that I could ever hope to be.
I missed life -- peering through the mirrored glass -- at me.

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