O Narcissus
O Narcissus what do you see?
a world defined by “me”
of the image of your face
with nose, mouth, and hair
glorifying the heavens
by its mere presence
For what is a work of art?
outside the context of “me”
a snapped photograph
with gray tracings and outlines
of dreary past cultures, of civilizations long lost
thirsting for your likeness
Fear not O Narcissus, you are not alone in your quest
you have friends
from the four corners of somewhere
irrelevant and unknown
for the backgrounds are fuzzy and blurry
and with great relief
for their imago dei
like yours
swallows them whole
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