Below is a poem from my friend Kim. I find her words beautiful, almost magical. Every word so carefully chosen. Its as if she were in my head, taking my thoughts, and putting them to paper. I wanted to share 1 of my favorites pieces with you today.
I look into my mirror, a shattered picture as it falls,
and dig into the shards of glass to restore the image I recall.
A broken scrambled vision is all that I can see
but somewhere in the pieces must be a part of me.
As though I were a kaleidoscope, with each turn the pictures change
and though its my hand on the vessel, I cannot control what is arranged.
Where have I disappeared to? Can somebody tell me how
I could lose my own identity within vanity's favorite shroud?
I feel so lost and fearful that I may never find
the person who still lives within the corners of my mind.
Did she once reside within a youthful stare?
Or have my memories forsaken me and left me painfully aware
that I may never find the girl the my broken mirror stole
and perhaps I never liked her even when she still was whole.
Even then I searched for the image to be enhanced
and never gave what I had to offer its rightful passing glance.
I've tried so hard to remember and yet cannot recall
ever smiling at myself to recite "mirror- mirror on the wall".
Perhaps that’s why the mirror fell, like a broken heart unhealed
as if to say "you never did appreciate the person I revealed".
So as I put together each piece of broken glass
I see each shard representing future, present, and my past.
and I wonder as I come closer to my end of time
what proof of my existence will I have left behind-
The color of my children's eyes, the words I chose to style
or perhaps a broken mirror with a Picasso looking smile.
I pray there will be many treasures I will have to give,
the good, the bad, the everything that’s says
I was here, I lived.
-Kim-
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