I Looked At Myself

You must look deeper than the mirror if you want to understand.

I looked at myself.

I saw a jade canopy forest over a city.

I saw oceans shimmering in a puddle.

So spacious. So small.

 

I looked at myself.

I saw a bag woman, looking for alms,

to feed the birds, to feed the children.

To feed the whole world by a crumb.

 

I looked at myself.

I saw a hungry child, eyes of sapphire,

precious jewels splashing forth in tears.

Bursting with Spirit in a closet of pain.

 

I looked at myself.

I saw a runaway teen, a spirited mustang,

tossing her hair in the wind.

Running a wide path to nowhere.

 

I looked at myself.

I saw an old preacher, trapped on his nowhere pulpit,

flourishing his eyes in violence, and anger.

Preaching to crowds of himself.

 

I looked at myself.

I saw a woman.

I saw a man.

I saw old.

I saw young.

I saw full.

I saw hungry.

I saw rich.

I saw poor.

 

I looked at myself.

I saw the world.