Standing in front of the mirror I see a face Changing, morphing, moving in stillness Who stands before me? I reach out and the reflection reaches back Is this a door? Who's knocking? Who's reaching back to me? My hand touches the glass hands touch though the glass. How can this be? Is it a trick of light and shadow? As p(s)alms touch and fingers interweave. grasping my hand in familiar apprehension? Oddly, I hear a knocking curiouser and curiouser, me thinks as I feel the rapping on my heart's door. A gentle rhythm percussing ma-s-saging me, me-s-saging me re-minding me, touching me with familiar intimacy. As I am re-minded, I am re-mem-be-re-d coalescing photonic particles swirling into particular cohesion Energy and matter dancing emptiness and form inter-playing melodies and harmonies deliquescing in fluidic rapture Mir-r-or me smiles back in similitude opening in simultaneous re-cognition Knock, knock. Who's there? Buddha. Buddha who? You-da-Buddha!