Allspirit

Tag: mirror

  • Love after love

    By Derek Walcott

    The time will come
    when, with elation,
    you will greet yourself arriving
    at your own door, in your own mirror,

    and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
    and say, sit here. Eat.
    You will love again the stranger who was your self.
    Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
    to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

    all your life, whom you ignored
    for another, who knows you by heart.
    Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

    the photographs, the desperate notes,
    peel your own image from the mirror.
    Sit. Feast on your life.

    Index of Poets on Allspirit

     

     

  • Where am I?

    A while back I travelled down to London by rail to meet
    up with a friend. When I left the train, I decided to
    pay a visit to the ladies. On coming out of the cubicle,
    I went over to wash my hands, and glanced casually up
    into the mirror. I wasn’t there!! The washbasins and the
    cubicles were reflected, but not gill!!!

    I stood there for what seemed like an age but must have
    been just a few moments. “Where am I?” “Well, I must have
    really disappeared now, but I didn’t realise you became
    invisible!”

    Just then, I watched in the mirror as a lady emerged from
    one of the cubicles. I turned around to look behind me, but
    she wasn’t there! I looked back, and then it suddenly clicked.
    There wasn’t actually a mirror. It was a washroom where each
    side was a mirror image of the other, and the double row of
    washbasins didn’t have a mirror above them, and the lady had
    been in one of the opposite cubicles. hahaha. I still laugh
    when I think about it. 

    Gill Washington

    More writings by Gill Washington

  • Reflecting Whatever

    Excerpted from  Intuitive Awareness

    By Ajahn Sumedho

    Consciousness is like a mirror; it reflects. A mirror reflects – it doesn’t just reflect the beautiful or the ugly. If you really look into a mirror, it’s reflecting whatever: the space, the neutrality, everything that is in front of it. Usually you can only notice the outstanding ones, the extremes of beauty or ugliness. But to awaken to the way it is, you’re not looking at the obvious, but recognising the subtlety behind the extremes of beauty and ugliness. The sound of silence is like a subtlety behind everything that you awaken to, because you don’t notice it usually if you’re seeking the extremes.

    More from Ajahn Sumedho

    More Buddhist writings on Allspirit

     

  • Don’t You Feel Small

    Song Lyrics on Allspirit

    The Moody Blues

    Written by Graeme Edge

    Ask the mirror on the wall
    Who’s the biggest fool of all,
    Bet you feel small,
    It happens to us all.

    See the world
    Ask what’s it for
    Understanding, nothing more,
    Don’t you feel small,
    It happens to us all.

    Time is now
    To spread your voice
    Time’s to come,
    there’ll be no choice,
    Why d’you feel small?
    It happens to us all.

    Look at progress,
    Then count the cost,
    We’ll spoil the seas
    With the rivers we’ve lost.
    See the writing on the wall,
    Hear the mirror’s warning call.
    That’s why you feel small,
    It happens to us all
    Ask the mirror on the wall
    Who’s the biggest fool of all,
    Bet you feel small,
    It happens to us all.

    Index of Lyrics on Allspirit

     

  • For Auta

    Before sunrise Auta put
    her moccasins on
    wore her silver necklace
    packed a small bag and
    got on her black horse, Thunder.
    Thunder, the carrier of dreams
    Thunder, always galloping
    to no where.
    No where predestined, known, or
    determined.
    Where do you ride to Auta?
    Is it the morning dew or
    your tears that make
    your beautiful eyes misty
    and filled with unwritten poems?
    When are you stopping Auta?
    Where?
    She ties Thunder to
    an apple tree and
    walks toward the lake.
    Sitting on a rock she
    opens her bag:
    a piece of bread
    a bottle of fresh water
    dried flowers
    a book of poems
    and a mirror.
    A sip of water,
    a piece of bread and
    the dry flowers that go
    with the current of the lake making
    magical patterns.
    The old book of poetry opens
    and Auta reads,
    “There is no destiny,
    make peace with that and
    rest in love.
    You are never late nor behind
    so, just be and
    rest in love.”
    Auta looks in the mirror
    Her silver necklace says,
    your soul is a warrior and
    love is your shield.
    She gasps as she realizes
    her own strength, and her own beauty.
    The sun has risen and
    Auta is not late
    for anything.

    Hydeh Aubon (9/1/06)