Reflections
I read a poem today that speaks of loss and longing, of leaving a parent behind while another one takes you away. It mirrored itself causeing me to take special notice of the changes in the reflected side. It makes me think of mirrors. How if we reverse the mirror that we look into on a daily basis we see ourselves as others see us. And yet that person in the double reflected mirror looks odd to us, different, not quite right. Because we always see our reflection and not the real view.
I almost want to hold a mirror up to my life and see what the reflection shows me. I almost want to see where the looking glass will take me. Last night I was told that my mind works in strange ways, as I read a story that dealt with love, loss and windows. Windows, are they mirrors, looking glasses that allow us to view the world through different eyes? Mirrors remind me of my childhood, walking through the house in exploring adventures, scaling the heights and depths of the ceiling seen in the glass of a mirror held up in my hands. Light fixtures were light set backs in life, dotting the smooth landscape, causeing you to climb past them before you could move on.
I almost want to hold a mirror up to my life and see what the reflection shows me. I almost want to see where the looking glass will take me. Last night I was told that my mind works in strange ways, as I read a story that dealt with love, loss and windows. Windows, are they mirrors, looking glasses that allow us to view the world through different eyes? Mirrors remind me of my childhood, walking through the house in exploring adventures, scaling the heights and depths of the ceiling seen in the glass of a mirror held up in my hands. Light fixtures were light set backs in life, dotting the smooth landscape, causeing you to climb past them before you could move on.