As we turn away from the mirror

That long, torturous gaze 

The beholding of our defects and dissatisfaction

An opinion-skewed labyrinth of distorted reflections

Haunted corridors of the damned.

To be awakened by the mercy of a small voice

A child’s hand

An invitation to play 

We are asked to pretend 

To become a fire fighter

A pilot

A fairy

By imagination and kinship, we journey back

To a real world

The present moment

The person who matters.

In the mystery of sacred playtime

Our soul returns to us

Our sanity arriving like a cherished friend.

As we turn away from the mirror

A new kind of good-looking

Lights our face

And offers its gift

To a far more appreciative audience

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