paper MIRRORS

Becoming nashe was/is

Accepting that the blood that courses through my veins is a river that flowed many a year before me and does not yield when it shatters upon rocks.

Learning that every light has its shadows and broken mirrors look back.

Accepting the gift of making mirrors out of paper; so you can see your face reflected when this river of paper flows by you.

Learning to stand in front of mirrors, especially those that panoply my weaknesses and get used to the sound of my own voice.

Seeing the victory in swung swords and not only in won wars.

Learning that you cannot ask mirrors for beauty you did not place nor correct mistakes not made.

And being at peace that one day the dust will ask for what it gave in the beginning.

Most importantly understanding that I am clay in the potter's hands.

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