The Mirror of the Self

(After a long time... a new poem. I wrote a part of it earlier, inspired by Richard Bach's Illusions, but rewrote and completed it only today. Actually, I don't quite fully understand what I've written myself, so it's more or less open to interpretation.)

In a small village
On a not-too distant shore,
Was born a boy in this age
Like none you’ve seen before.

Too aware of the harsh world,
And too sensitive for his own good,
He would sit thinking till the night grew cold,
And the fire died for lack of wood.

A fine young man he grew up to be,
But this world is not the right place
For a mind as beautiful as had he;
Yet it was something he had to face.

Confused, he was, by so many things
That defied the common sense of his soul;
Questions raged and lent him wings
And one night into the darkness he stole.

He could not put into words his distress
And the thoughts that blazed in his head.
But he sought the answers nonetheless;
The wide world, in front of him was spread.

He searched for justice
He searched for compassion
He searched for mercy
He searched for integrity
His search was long, but in vain.

He searched the mountains
He searched the valleys
He searched the oceans
He searched the deserts
His face was weathered by the strain.

At last he chanced to hear
Of an elusive hermit who was very wise;
For the needy alone he would appear,
And offer his priceless advice.

He found him at last on a snow-capped peak,
And submitted to him thus:
"O Wise one!
I have scoured the lands and the seas;
I have looked everywhere, and what do I see?
I see hatred, I see bloodshed,
I see pettiness, I see cruelty,
I see jealousy, I see greed,
I see selfishness, I see dishonesty.
All I look for is a human being,
The way God made him to be.
Is that too much to ask?
Why can I not find such a man?"

The wise hermit said to him,
"Cease your search this very instant.
All who you see, who are not
How you know they should be,
Are but lost, and it is your duty
To show them the way."

The young man suddenly felt as though
His soul were cleansed with heavenly light
And his heart was unburdened a thousand-fold.
He turned around, hesitated, and turned again
To ask how he may start this monumental task.
But the man he’d addressed was not to be found;
In his place was a frozen mirror of ice.

A miracle he’d seen, and a miracle he’d heard.
With purpose anew he set forth upon his task.
He was a leader of men,
Aye, men they’d become under his guidance
From the creatures the world had turned them into.

"This man is the Son of God," they whispered,
"And he has seen and spoken to Him."
"I am naught but a son of this same Earth,”
He replied, "And I but saw and spoke to my inner self."