Saturday, March 04, 2006


Master, I thank You for this mirror.
I will keep it clean and free of dust,
that it may reflect a little of Your light.
Grant my imagination strong wings,
that I may draw inspiration from the air.
Let me see visions in this glass.

Blower of glass,
make me a magic mirror.
Summon spirits of air.
They come in clouds of dust--
look how their wings
dazzle in the light!

Now I feel myself feather-light,
my body is clear as glass.
From my shoulders vast wings
unfold, though there's nothing in the mirror.
Farewell to dust,
I've become a creature of air.

I take to the air,
like a moth seeking light.
But was I blinded by dust?
The sky turns to glass
reflects me like a mirror--
the collision bruises my wings!

Alas, my failing wings
cannot hold me in the air.
The sea below like a mirror
and I, scorched by light.
Falling, I'll break like glass
and surely end in dust.

So I return to dust
stripped of my borrowed wings.
I flew against the sky and found glass.
Where I hoped to find open air
a limitless ocean of light
I saw only myself in a mirror.

But the mirror was just glass
silvered by the dust from my own wings.
A window open to air and light.

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