Cathartic Waters

There is a baptism that takes place

in the moment when with sublime tears

we see ourselves in the letters and frames

of someone else’s story.

Like looking down at a pristine lake,

so pure that we can see our own reflection,

we are reborn in cathartic waters

when we see our insanity in Hamlet—

young prince, morose and meditative,

and our wisdom in Merlin—

old sage, who never speaks in vain.

Lives which seem distant but belong to no one else

but ourselves—They are ours!  And they are us.

Yes, maybe we need to be “entertained”

just as much as they need to be seen…

And perhaps we never know who we are;

perhaps we are not yet even born or made

until we let someone else show us

where our story is, what it is all about,

and why we have decided to write.