The Mirror
I come to you with the grime of an ancient past
So sticky that the waters of your grace
Alone can dissolve it.
I ask to be cleansed first so that then you can hold me.
You embrace me as I am and in doing so cleanse.
Strange is your magic that makes every bit of grime
I offer you into gleaming gold
And dims my own reflection in the mirror,
Ushering me towards that longed for return to innocence
When nothing of me is left to be reflected.
When the mirror everywhere blossoms into only one face:
The face of the beloved.
- Anahita Sanjana (India)
Beautiful way of depicting self-offering and the slow process of transformation. Thanks for these beautiful poetic glimpses, of psychic opening, which I very much look forward to.
ReplyDeleteVery welcome. Grateful to you for receiving the poem with so much sensitivity!
ReplyDeleteAnahita
The last two lines are quite evocative...expresses the deepest aspiration of the soul. Beautiful share, Anahita.
ReplyDeleteThank you Beloo. The last two lines are very significant for me too!
ReplyDeleteHappy you share this with me.
Anahita