A Small Gift

I fear looking at my own image in the mirror
Especially those eyes
Yet I spend hours and hours in front of
mirrors… and the eyes from the other side –
they keep on staring at my transparent self,
right inside me…
And that sure gives me the creeps
At times I ask myself – which one
of the two is real ? The one inside
the mirror, or the one outside?
I’ve been trying to find a way out
of this labyrinth for quite some
time now…

I am a joker
And like all jokers, I have
sad eyes and a face that smiles
vacantly out of the empty mist
And I play a saxophone sometimes
And like all saxophones, it sounds
like a nightingale in a lonely valley
But wherever I go and whatever
I do, I drag my purple self with me
Like the moon dragging the violet
clouds at midnight…

Perhaps someday I will smash
all the mirrors
Perhaps someday I will stop smiling
But till then I plan to keep myself
entertained with all the treasures
I have dug out of life –
the dearest among them being happiness
Well, I guess that’s what living is all about