Several Masks

I am fascinated by the golems as described
by Terry Pratchett, I love their language, the
sacred words of duty in their head - strange
symbols of angels they use in writing some-
times, I think I am a golem also, not my first
choice, just born this way, if something had
a say in this it must have been my own pre-
birth soul entity choosing to come to earth
simply ot serve, to follow rules, feel what it
is like to break your heart choosing always
to put duty first, irrespective of desire, even
need or dreaming - just a pottery creature
who can crack explaining the pain I often
feel when life hits me with a hammer in a
sensitive place, I crack and need pottery
clay to restore body and face, yet like al-
most everybody else I have several masks
to fear to cover myself, Quasimodo when I
am unsettled and feeling stupid, Agony Aunt
when someone has problems, Alice in Won-
derland when discovering enticing new ideas,
a crocodile devouring ideas when I should be
completing routine jobs, and devouring me
from inside when I am too lazy to seek new
books and ideas, new stories and poems and
mysteries - and a dream face in the mirror who
laughs at me but will never come out when I
need help, never stays when others get angry
with me, leaving me to be a clumsy Cinderella
when work has to be done – I never get to go
to the ball with her, though, as a pottery thing
I have to stay home and mind the fire as no-
body knows of the laughing stranger in the
mirror and she departs all the time…