Mirror, mirror, in mid-tumble…


Sometimes, whether we feel broken or not, the answer to some Prayer –uttered by us between our waking words, or lodged in us from the between times –will pin us to the mat and insist on Healing: a Rebirth that turns life turns upside down so that our foundations can be repaired, and stuffs us into the birth canal all over again. All we can do is be patient, and enjoy the inscrutable view, as our old eyes become blind.


One thought on “Mirror, mirror, in mid-tumble…

  1. “the vagabond who’s rapping at our dooris standing in the clothes that we once worestrike another match, go start anewit’s all over now, baby blue” 

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