Catching a Glimpse of the Numinous

 

Millions of times people look
into their mirrors, and the gaze
puts Narcissus to shame.
But there is no Echo with a crush—

only the old, familiar reflection,
a small ocular boomerang, as if
the glass held a second self
whose copy slips into their eyes.

Oh, does “to know thyself” mean
to split oneself and let that double
teach one who one truly is?

And isn’t it true that the lifeless
mirror shows only what you offer?
From what cast, then, will the soul return—

if not from the mirror’s silent mold,
but from the empty space behind the glass
where the numinous waits,
unseen, until the gaze is turned
not inward, but outward,

beyond the self,
beyond the mirror,
into the world where the soul is not reflected,
but revealed.