10 March 2013
A captivating child's toy, obscuring what's behind.
Stained glass shards just reassemble with a shift of view, Wheeling like a mandala rolling through the pews.
Mythic hero, evil foil, strict but loving Dad; Temper prone but all supportive Mother of the land.
Splintered echoes seen reflected over history; We all share a lot as people, but what does it mean?
Is there some truth that underlies, or is it all pretense? Are we simply overwhelmed without that fractured lens?
Kaleidoscope • Opuss № I