Like the Sun

Rippled glass and an image of

me

reflected in a single drop of water

struggling to keep in line with the demands of gravity.

What do I see?

A face. A face like the sun, warm and indeterminate,

changing so rapidly pinning down its features would be

insurmountable. Like the sun: surrounded by a golden halo.

A heavenly body with a crown of glory. (thinking

about the lack of compunction with which

this world of oh-so-substantive veils and shadows

so blatantly lies to us.

And we believe It.

c. Mary Kathryn Gough, 2/16/04

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