Impassive, largely noncommittal, the mirror reposes. Its silvered depths extend into nothingness. The sunlight, dappled yet shaded by an awning slants into the reflexive surface of the mirror. A reciprocative slant of light is reduplicated . The two lights are distinct yet part of a larger aura of incandescence whose alternate vitreous and fitful play makes the light peek in out, like a breath, indrawn and expelled. In those interstices a being, a consciousness of the natural world, unfurls nebulously.
A butterfly hands mid air, pausing to contemplate itself as itself in the mirror. The light, slanting in, alights on the butterfly's wing and a polychromatic shimmer of iridescence flashes in the air, points of light, intricately colored yet dazed and hazed by the intensity of the light. To the mortal eye pinpoints of color, dotted yet floating flash here and there near the circumference of the mirror. The retina, still adjusting to the blinding glare, has to shut and open, reiteratively, for the luminosity to cohere, settle, repose equably.
Meanwhile the butterfly zigzags hither and thither, coming to perch on the rim of the mirror. Its wings flutter and it traverses the mirror, kissing the various specular points of its temporal presence in the mirror. Although the butterfly is, in effect, kissing itself it is also bestowing, with these fitful gestures, an oblation to the negotiable space of the mirror. Its possibilities of flight extend beyond the mirror. For the moment though the mirror is negotiated, as though the limits of seeing are tested before, with a swoop of inexpressible joy, the butterfly gives up on the mirror, flying off.
Seeing is perceiving but perception transcends sight. A whole spectrum of seeing and perceiving, being and becoming, has passed through the mediation of the mirror. The glass is still glass but, by making metaphysics emerge through the self enclosed chrysalis of the narcissism consciousness contains, the mirror has shown the way out.