Before... there were names. Before... there were nations. Before... there were doctrines. There was... a sentence. Quiet. Almost... too simple. "Let Us make..." Not a statue. Not an idol. Not a shadow. "In Our image..." "After Our likeness..." I read it... a thousand times. But somehow... I looked... everywhere... except... the mirror. Not the mirror... of pride. Not the mirror... that measures... success... or failure. The mirror... that asks... What... does Life... look like? Can Love... be reflected? Can Spirit... be seen? Not with eyes... that measure flesh. But with eyes... that recognize... Life... meeting... Life. Somewhere... I forgot... the first page. I remembered... the dust. But forgot... the image. I remembered... the journey. But forgot... the beginning. Perhaps... the mirror... was never broken. Only... covered. Layer... upon layer... of borrowed names. Borrowed fears. Borrowed certainty. Until... the reflection... grew quiet. Then... one day... the dust... settled. The noise... stopped. And there... without effort... without striving... without becoming... the reflection... was waiting. Not asking... to be worshiped. Not asking... to be feared. Only... to be remembered. Maybe... we never lost... the image. Maybe... we only forgot... where... to look.
