mirror

Love after love

Gill Washington Derek Walcott, Life, Love, Poems , , , 0 Comment

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?

Gill Washington Awakening, Gill Washington, Humour, Spiritual Writers , , 0 Comment

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

Gill Washington Ajahn Sumedho, Buddhist Writings, Spirituality , , , , , , 0 Comment

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

Gill Washington Song Lyrics Allspirit, The Moody Blues , , , 0 Comment

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

Gill Washington Hydeh Aubon, Poems , , 0 Comment

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)