In the beginning,
there was nothing.
Then—a mirror appeared.
I gazed,
and mistook the reflection for myself.
I lived among shadows,
confusing echo for essence,
image for truth.
But the mirror,
strange as it was,
besides its unreal display
quietly pointed beyond the glass—
not to itself,
but to the One it tried to reflect.
Then I realized:
the mirror was never real.
Only a dream,
trying to awaken me.
There was nothing to reach for.
Nothing to reach with.
The image was not me.
I am the One being mirrored.
And when I knew this,
the mirror disappeared—
like mist at sunrise.
