When I look in the mirror, all that I see
are all these flaws looking back at me.
Not good enough - No! No! Not at all!
these thoughts feel like a thick, iron wall,
imprisoning me in this mental cage,
with no space to see the perfect sage,
seemingly written in permanent ink,
always affecting what I see, feel, and think.
And even though, I know deep down inside
there is no reason I need to hide
who I am to the world and yet I see,
a horrible, slimy thing looking back at me.
A thing with claws of anger and regret,
parts of myself that I don't like yet:
confusion, desire, pride, envy, and rage,
appearing on the ground of the perfect sage.
And yet I know that the thing and the sage,
are somehow linked, like the words and the page,
We get lost in the words as they appear,
forgetting that the page is - Oh, so near!
For the words, they form the story being told,
but the page is the primordial ground of old,
the ground of all my not-good-enough thoughts,
of my should-have's and should-have-not's.
The words appear, but it is I who creates
the story that spins and propagates.
It is the story that's reflected on the page -
not who I am; just the bars of the cage.
The cage itself is not a problem, you see,
as it is not as solid as it appears to be.
I am not what I think or feel,
but I made it all a really big deal,
creating a tale, a tale that is tall,
when, really, there is no problem at all!
With closer inspection and skillful recollection,
I finally see my true nature, my true reflection,
seeing through the story being told,
seeing the perfect sage of old,
knowing that although the words appear,
the ground of the page is always near.
And so I look in the mirror once more,
and see much more than I did before.
With an open heart and a resting mind,
the perfect sage I finally find.
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay
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