Bella Vita
Reflection of a jet plane moves over Manhattan.In the mottled marble of my lunch break altar.
You can see everything in reflections,
and speculate their end.
You can say anything of reflections,
and contemplate your end.
Reflection, dimmed by shadow--
Shadow of doubt, paranoia, anxiety...
Lack of trust in false giants.
Yet, clarified by light--
Light of Ratio--ineffective sans Fides--
Bouncing beams outline a shape
and hint at the shape to come.
So even the simplest shape can rise...
posted by Mish @ 21:58
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