SEND A PRIVATE MESSAGE
HIRE THIS WRITER
I was born with a looking-glass
Set right in front of my face
No matter where I turn my head
It always stays right in place.
I know my world from what I see
There in my own reflection
Consulting my own image for
Life's meaning and direction.
Whatever works to make me smile
Will suit me quite precisely
And anyone who puts me first
Will serve me very nicely.
There's not much room to look at you
Around my precious mirror
But that's okay, I do not wish
To see you any clearer.
Unless you can somehow improve
My image, re-create it
If you can help me like myself
I'd sure appreciate it.
My world feels very small and close
My face no longer thrills me
I want to feed my self-esteem
Before starvation kills me.
But now a bold intruder comes
He really aggravates me
He wants all my attention, and
Sometimes I think He hates me.
He messes with my looking-glass
But won't make me look better
He says I ought to worship Him
Like I'm some kind of debtor.
He shows me all my flaws, and yet
He says that there's good in store
The problem is, I'm not allowed
To dwell on "me" anymore.
I let Him push my mirror down
No more than an inch or two
And when I take my eyes off me
I'm amazed by something new.
Such wideness and such majesty!
My overwhelmed senses reel
Such joy, such awe, such love are more
Than I thought I'd ever feel.
My hands fall to my sides and let
My mirror fall and shatter
I barely notice that it's gone
It doesn't seem to matter.
He smiles, and in His eyes I see
The source of all this glory
Now praise seems only natural
And not obligatory.
He gives me a new looking-glass
And instinctively I know
Which way I want to turn it and
Whose face I want it to show.
I never want to look away
This beauty feeds my spirit
I shout the news to everyone
And pray that some will hear it.
There, standing out among the throngs
I see some shining Others
Their mirrors turned toward The Light
My sisters and my brothers.
Our little glasses cannot hope
His glory all to capture
But each one can reflect some more
And blaze with holy rapture.
I fear this is too good to last
And then I hear Him praying
I scarcely can believe the words
The Son of God is saying.
"I pray that they will be with Me
In Heaven, where forever
My splendor they will always see
And from Me none can sever."
How can I thank or praise enough
For such a wondrous present?
The finest riches Heaven owns
Lavished on me, a peasant!
Friends, if you see me sorrowing,
My mirror turned to face me
Please help me point it back to God
And let His joy embrace me.
And if you're sad, I'll give to you
The best I could ever give
I'll help you turn your eyes to God
To look to Him so you'll live.
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A good message here. This is the type of writing I attempt in my poems also. It's not about us; it's about God.
Very beautiful, and inspiring. Such God given talent. WELL DONE !
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