#3b advice to myself

The image of a Teacher rests between me and the Light
I can see the Light through his eyes and actions
But he is not my presence, although helping it he might

The Light is in his and my reflections
Caught on the mirror of my deepest inner lake
To be fogged by my earthly affections

Admirations, ambitions, the images of my father
They pull me to his outer appearance
Whereas I shouldn’t bother

He allows me to see, without interference
My own steps in growth
That is, where my fear is

Is it truly or only a story?
Told by my mind
To miss another moment of gracious glory?

A glory of awereness is what I find
Hidden out in the open
In the wish where me and him bind

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