Writing

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.