**I gotta thank a much needed heart to heart conversation with the former mom-in-law for the inspiration behind this one**
This woman standing before you
Is she as grand as you imagined?
Does she meet all of your expectations?
Your idea of things
And how they should be
Your heart’s mirage
Do you see her flaws?
Are her phantoms
Strong enough to destroy your illusion
You chased after her avatar
Like a prophet travelling deserts
Searching for the meaning of life
Did you find yours in her embrace?
Or have you placed her so high on her pedestal
That you failed to notice
The frayed ends of her fine robes
And that her feet
Are bare and calloused underneath
Is her golden hollow idol fit for prostrations?
What do you see
When you look at this woman
Standing before you
Is it her you love?
Or the myth you created
Is divinely inspired
But I’m sure if you allow the silence
And truly listen
You’ll hear her faintly whispering
Her own legacy
An oral tradition so much richer
Than the story you created
When the woman of your false eye
Cannot deliver your salvation
Will you leave her buried and forgotten?
Your love for her a lost relic
When her miracles fall short
And her prophesies prove untrue
What will her image then look like?
Will you still follow her faithfully
Or seek a new idol to worship
There are some fools
That reality cannot measure up
To what we conjure in our minds
But the truth is
Our false eye
Is a kind of poison
For it never allows us
The gift of what is truly there
We grasp at air
And attempt to weave it
Into something concrete
Placing blind faith
In our idea of things
And falling in love
With our heart’s mirage
©2011 by Toya J