THE MIRAGE

Shimmering, glimmering
Enticing to a fault
Always in the distance
Beckoning to be caught.

The illusion, projection
Of what we hope and dream
Always better imagined
Not being what it seems.

Leading the thirsty one
Down a dusty track
Through a blistering desert
Never turning back.

Oasis, respite
Mirror or mirage
Foretaste of glory
Or desert camouflaged?

Fantasies, fairy tales
Broken or borrowed schemes
Dead end ideas
Ephemeral as moonbeams.

Prosperity, wealth
Beyond one’s wildest dreams
Pleasure though fleeting
Glistens and it gleams.

Longing, lusting
For things beyond our reach
Driving our behavior
Not practicing what we preach.

Consumer, consumed
By the inner fire
Not the Holy Spirit’s,
Insatiable desire.


Transitory, temporary
Shelter from the storm
Something to nurse a life along
Someone to keep you warm.

Like David, wizened
And his Shunammite
A beautiful young virgin
To get him through the night.

Settling’s unsettling
To the heart and soul
Made for everlasting love
Not fleeting human dole.

Look now in the mirror
Remember what you saw
The person you’ve just glimpsed
Is you in the raw.

Stop praying for mirages
To suddenly be real
Stop measuring yourself
By how it makes you feel.

Stop measuring your worth,
By how much you’ve achieved
How much you have bought or won
Or suffered or have grieved.

God loves you as you are
Though the image has been broken
Grasp the everlasting life
Not its ghost or fleeting token.

BW3
Aug. 9th 2006