Mirror, Mirror In The Field

I step through the gate dressed in tears, fears, anger and hurt.

You gently hand me a photo that shines my inside world back to me.
A snapshot saying, ‘here is the true you, own it’.
A gentle non-verbal declaration. I have no choice.

If I wish to be with you in any kind of unity
I must first look deep into that reflection, my reflection, and ‘own it’.

If I insist on keeping those loops forever looping
and the incongruency sharpened
then we will not walk together.

Yet you don’t look at me with deflective eyes.
You never tell me I am wrong.

You embrace my peace and keep the reflection strong.
Your patience is the patience of nature.
It holds and grows as plant from seed to bloom.

I have no choice.
To be with you I must listen to my whispers,
I must see that reflection in you with love and compassion for myself.

Only then will you feel safe with me.
Only then will you kiss me a thousand times over with your soft whiskers
and breathe gentle breezes into my soul.

There I can begin the pilgrimage to authenticity.
Then, and only then will you walk beside me.

                                                                                                                                                          Mirror mirror in the field…

                                                                                                                                                                   Lynda Watson

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