Broken mirrors
Broken mirrors looking for reflections.
What if we could ask a photon of light that traveled for so long and reflected and refracted so many times to tell us whatever it saw? How wonderful would it be to be a single photon traveling the vast, dark expanse lighting it up wherever you go?
Broken mirrors looking for reflections.
What if you could ask a sound wave to relate the surfaces and sounds it created and made across it's lifetime to you? What feelings can it unearth that were previously buried? How wonderful would it be to become so powerful gravity has to succumb to you and become you?
Broken mirrors looking for reflections.
Whenever one reflects back even a tiny mote of a mutual feeling, a sliver of a shared interest, an infinitesimal part that might hint at a possible shard of common ground, it seems to illuminate our entire existence, to fill up entire being, to come crashing over us in roaring waves of happiness.
One cannot see his own mirror therefore shall never know Except through summing all reflections gathered