Before I knew I was unhappy The questions were unanswered.
There was no crisis, Just the ongoingness Of dizzying agony.
Without the busyness of costumes, I became curious: What shaped these blows? Why did I accept being thrown away And jerked back? Why these steps In pain Over and over and over?
How can I stop the dance? Is it my choice? Where was this dark dance Choreographed?
The mirror watched As I twirled and twisted, Watched impassively Until, finally, a little light bled in.
I almost saw a question, And twisted away. I felt an answer trembling at my fingertips, And closed my eyes.
I tripped, and caught myself By staring at the mirror. Again, And again.
The mirror saw what I felt: The dance was shifting, gentling, stretching.
And the questions began shaping The new choreography.
Learning Living 