What’s real?

We know that old saying,

That even a broken clock 

Is right twice a day. 

It’s also true — at least twice a day — 

That there are times when the light inside 

And the light outside my home

 (And possibly my soul) 

Become somehow indistinguishable, 

And it becomes challenging to know 

Exactly what is real and what’s reflection.

 I like the blurring of those lines, 

And seek to replicate it in my art, 

To see what truths reveal themselves 

 When the answers are not obvious 

 And we’ve not been told in advance 

What we’re meant to see.