I like the idea that we are healed when we see ourselves truthfully
I think it’s odd that we pay psychotherapists to tell us our defence mechanisms and self deceits,but we don’t like it when friends point them out,free,without charge.I find religious imagery is useful to a poet as a metaphor
God’s Son was here on earth.
A young girl gave Him birth.
His words remind us of our worth,
Give hope of heavenly mirth.
He brought the gifts of love-
To cure our bad eyesight.
But we don’t want to see,
To have the painfulness of light.
We love our flaws without knowing,
Even when the effects are growing.
We’d rather stay in dark and doubt.
Than have our weakness showing
But when you seek advice
From someone kind and true,
Healed when we can bear to see
The mirror’s total view,
The looking glass is truth
It’s painfully acquired.
But, oddly ,when we face the glass,
A transformation comes to pass,
And our souls change from black to gold,