The Mirror
By Shermeeka Mason
The Mirror
I cannot speak for anyone else but the mirror eases my spirit when I am able
to receive it, to feel the Mystic Law, its music played by my voice.
When alone, I envision the truth—my reality—as my eyes rest upon
internalize and to live by accordingly.
And even though my story isn’t pretty all the time, at least it teaches and it’s one
to be told and I would not live known that if it weren’t for
Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo. Those four words remind me of my place,
my worth, my capabilities, my trials and tribulations and the fact that I am
one of a million.
And I see their faces staring at me, lips moving, eclipsing my reflection.