How long have I looked into this pool,
Watching that image for change
Hoping it would grow a bit brighter,
A bit more worthy?
How long has my hand been stayed
Just above the water
Wanting, desperately, to fix the faults
Within the image floating there?
Isn’t it time to let the ugly be
To look away from the wrongs that seem so glaring
To live, rather than to be frozen with regret
To move away from the pool into the day?
I’ll never fix that face
Nor find perfection there.
I’ll never even modify the expression on that face
By looking in the water.
The trap is not the beauty or the lack thereof
But the fixation on the image
And the fantasy that perfection
Is the necessary first step toward acceptance.
But … what is that?
A movement other than my own within the pool
A hand upon my shoulder
A face besides my own looks up at me.
The look within those eyes
As they gaze on my reflection
Seem filled with tears of love.
They drop into the pool and blur the vision there.
The spell is broken.
Narcissus turns and is wrapped in an embrace so full
That all preoccupation is lost in deepest consolation.
[image by cea + per cc 2.0]
There is the clay
And the life within the clay
Both hold the glory of God
Both are held in that dear embrace.
[image adapted from a work by ROBERT HUFFSTUTTER per cc 2.0]
It’s such a silly dance I dance,
Trying to decide if its you or me
Who takes each step, within the flow.
So, thinking too hard about the steps,
I forget that dancing is less about my feet,
And more about the music.
My focus, once again, awry.
Only, on occasion,
The beauty takes me from myself.
I find that I am whirling in your arms,
Alight with joy, full of you,
And … fully me.
I do not lose myself.
I loose myself,
When I turn my attention
From my feet
To your embrace.
Then, I find the music
And I can dance.
[photo by DrewToYou per cc 2.0]
Are you befuddled, like I am?
Were you caught off guard
By the once-again willfulness
Of these, (of us) your dear children?
Are you saddened by
Our angry rejection – each of the other
As we each try to be right enough
To gain your approval?
When will we wake up to the love
Already wrapped around our shoulders?
When will we learn to giggle together
Under the blanket of your grace?
[photo by Christine Mahler per cc 2.0]
I gather myself for a moment’s centering.
I wait upon the edge of quiet
Letting my soul seep in.
Each breath draws in.
Each breath empties out.
The quiet deepens.
I release my fluttering thoughts into the void.
I refuse to ride my thoughts away.
I let them go, without me
And am surprised to see that I remain.
They do not hold the deepest me.
I do not know why that is a surprise
But I smile as I snuggle down into your lap.
I rest my heart upon your whisper
And turn my cheek to your caress.
Your lullaby is a wordless melody
Sung in the quiet forever
Only audible in stillness
But ever there.
I rouse myself enough to wonder
If my bliss seems boring to the more adventurous souls.
You croon and hold me close
And my heart beats with excitement.
This quiet moment is, indeed, but foreplay …
[the photo is my own]