Thursday, 14 April 2016



I used to think this was me:
Dark-brown woolly hair,
black pupil laying gently on brownish iris.
Face ladened with nose and mouth.
Ears looking fastidiously on my shoulders.
Bones that always want to escape out of my cheek.

I used to think I was this boy:
Lips rising and falling when words craved
their release from the prison of my mouth.
Fingers kissing and loving one
another as I try to speak to her.

I used to think I was this man:
Eyes viewing two birthday suits( masculine and feminine)
doing things my mouth must not speak
on screens of diverse forms.
Hands helping me dispense fluid
from the sticky duct in my excitative place.

But this man I see on this mirror
is not who I used to think I was:

A man shimmering in heavenly shimmer;
clothed in the apparels of God;
glory, beauty and honour.
Hands are clean. Heart is pure.
They are God's.

The name of his face
is joy. His shoulders are christened "peace."
His legs are surnamed "tidings of gladness."

This man I see
on this mirror of words
is who I really am!
Holy words which bewray who I am to me...

This mirror is mine.
It never breaks! It is not fragile!
And the words therein are for me.
That I may banish those former images

from my heart.
So, when my soul
seeks to paint ugly pictures of my sins;
inabilities, inadequacies and failures
I will go before my mirror;

my mirror of words.
And I will behold anew the man I really am!

#Team WC



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