Narcissus

Jennifer Paige©1998

Does this flower have a name?

            Reflected—

                        A pale bloom with

                        Hollow eyes,

                                    Clear hallways to empty soul,

                        The determined chin

                        And stubborn set of a jaw,

                                    Teeth clenched.

To control anything, one must first

            Surrender to it.

            Surrender to the pain,

                                 The solo

                                 The voice

                                 The mind

                                 The tears

                                 The heart—

In time, this too shall pass.

But in what form will enlightenment come?

            Will the illumination in the mirror change,

                        Evolve into the angel of the higher self,

                        Beautiful and condescending?

            Metamorphosis, become some mutant fearful of

                        Its own image?

            Split, two demons battling for the best intention?

            Or will it speed away once it has been

                        Shown the light?

            To scurry back along those hollow corridors,

            To exit the skull,

                        Unprotected,

            Where, again, the world waits,

                        Vultures,

            To pick apart the petals,

            Raping for the answers?

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