Moon-Mirror

Contemplating divine reflection of the Heart

We are not meant to burn with autonomous enlightenment, but to perfect our capacity for reflection. This poem emerged from wrestling with the paradox Alan Watts illuminated: the "I" that seeks to know itself dissolves under scrutiny, revealing we are not separate individuals but interconnected expressions of one awareness.

Like the Quran borrowing divine fire through Gabriel's mediation, our personal stories become meaningful only when we recognize them as temporary vehicles for something infinitely larger, consciousness knowing itself through countless mirrors scattered across the turning world.

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The Book is NOT God…
it is the moon borrowing fire,
Gabriel's silver tongue translating
solar truth into whispered mercy.

I hold these pages like lunar maps,
each verse a borrowed beam
guiding night-wanderers home,
through the geography of forgetting.

The moon never claims to burn,
only to receive and reflect,
perfect surrender made luminous,
darkness transformed into gentle guidance.

Let my heart become this:
mirror-water catching starlight,
reflecting what passes through
without grasping, without claiming ownership,
of mysteries that belong to no one
and everyone simultaneously.

When Gabriel spoke to the Prophet,
it was moonlight instructing moonlight,
consciousness teaching consciousness,
how to hold the unbearable radiance
of direct encounter with the Source.

My words, then, are moon-beams:
borrowed illumination made gentle,
divine fire filtered through the mercy
of human limitation, human need
for truth that doesn't incinerate
but illuminates the path forward.

In the contemplative hours
between certainty and doubt,
I practice lunar discipleship…
learning to shine without burning,
to guide without commanding,
to reflect the Face of the Beloved
in whatever broken mirror
this particular heart provides.

For we are all disciples of the moon,
reflecting fragments of infinite light
through the specific angles
of our individual wounds and wonder,
our personal geography of seeking,
our unique capacity for surrender.

The words enter my chest
like cool silver rivers,
transforming the landscape within,
each verse a reminder that truth
travels through reflection,
through the patient alchemy
of receiving and giving,
hiding and revealing,
the ETERNAL conversation between
GOD and its countless mirrors
scattered across the turning world.

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Let my speech become moon-song: borrowed light made blessing, divine whisper made audible through one human heart's willingness to disappear into reflected radiance.