Poem November 24, 1997 Issue

Where am I?

Donald L. Shipman

I stand before a mirror, my "self" I cannot see.
There's just a mortal image staring back at me.
An image of a body and a head topped off with hair.
I know this fact for certain, I'm not hiding out in there!

If I want to catch a glimpse of the real and only "me,"
I start my search with meekness and humility.
Acts of kindness cloaked in grace, all conveyed with
tenderness—
Charity, some words of praise, freely given with gentleness.

From wisdom comes lots of love, and forgiveness, too—
These all combine to bring my true image into view.
There is no trace of matter, no mirrors where I stand.
I now see the reflection of who I really am!

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