mirrors

      I was staring at my face
     in a mirror when a question
     changed my gaze from plain thoughtless glancing to inspection
     of the glass that stood before me
     while the light spilled forth like gold ink,
     which side of the mirror was I?
     was the thought that craved affection,
     was i the someone real or was i just their cast reflection,
     was i matter cause i feel
     and the mirror wouldn't mention,
     or do i feel because i matter here
     do mirrors feel, do mirrors hear?
     my image told me it was my soul as shown from another direction,
     that it laughed and hurt and healed and lived and learned its lessons
     i said you're my soul wearing a smile and after a little while
     the reply was, well no… we are a connection
     an example of waves dancing in outers pace, each the others same except dimension