Mirror of Reflection

I sat, looking in a mirror of glass, staring at my imperfections; Using the coals of my past to burn them away leaving only scars that remain in the mirror.

You were there watching

I sat, looking in a broken mirror on the desk, staring at the many reflections of my blemishes. The mirror that was broken by the stone of betrayal; Using the pieces of shattered dreams, to cut away the blemishes. This time not just the spots on the outside, but everything around them, for now in this broken mirror all was defiled; this time only the underlying blood remained.

You were there watching

I sat, looking in the mirror, broken pieces put together oh so slightly, some not quite matching up, but closer to the first;staring at the shattered image of my blemishes; wondering what happened, why me; then I cover the reflection with a black shroud, never to look again; Using anguish to cover my exposed life, hiding from You.No blemishes now, just brokenness.

You were there watching

I lay, staring at the walls around me, forgotten about the mirror only circling, spiraling, chasing the bottom of the drain; longing for an end. Cursing all, mostly the false world in the mirror and the reflection. Using, nothing, not moving, just weeping.

You were there watching and waiting

I sit, on the bed, in the grave shroud, looking at were the mirror lays, forgotten.A light is shining from underneath, pulsing, humming, calling. Using my eyes, staring, forgetting weakness, just staring.

You were there watching and waiting

I stand, on my own two feet, first time in eons; moving towards the now remembered mirror; my clothes, still there, life still exposed, waiting for that end to come; now curiosity. Using my hands, I raise them up to remove the covering on the long forgotten mirror

You were there watching and waiting

I remove the cover, to see a mirror of polished gold; standing there, looking inside the reflection for the very first time (truly), wondering in amazement, what lays before my eyes. Beauty, a thing I have never known; Love, a thing always twisted; Joy, a thing forgotten; Hope, a thing never found. I look even deeper, I see me, remade, no blemish, no scar, no exposed life, all I see is You in that mirror of my soul.

and You were watching






..............and weeping.

Tension of Loneliness

A man walks to his car from his house, feeling out of place in that house.
He gets into his car, driving down the road thinking that something else has to be wondering where he is going.
He pulls into a parking lot, gazing out his wondering; feeling alone and that not many understand.
Walking through the park, passing through the crowds of people, the many families, couples, and individuals, yet not being connected to any of them.
This man, cries out for them all from his inner most being, praying and hoping that they would know the One that fills that loneliness, the One that shows everlasting love, the One that is relentlessly pursuing us as we pursue vapor.
How do we find fellowship with the blind when we see, how do you relate the color red to someone that has never seen; how do we share love to people that don't know what it truly is and when confronted with it, RUN?

In a place where sorrow and joy meet, where peace and war, love and hate, order and chaos, balanced and unbalanced, devoted and lethargic, somewhere in there, this tension, do we find what is being sought after, that which completes who we are; only one answer remains, the answer that has been and will be rejected right up until the sky is split.