Refections
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A wise man's words come back to me -

“The eye sees not itself but by reflection”

I find a mirror and gaze there deep

To see relentless scrutiny reflected back to me.

Every step in life I took it traced therein as residue

Of scars and frowns and smiling days

Composing lines and features of outward “I” I see. “ Not yet” it mocks

“How dare you try to read a book before its time.

Your secret I will not reveal until you are dying hour,

Only when that page is filled can you alone make sense of me”

Abandoning the incompletion in my eye that I perceive

I join a crowd of revelers gathered in the street

Where every eye I now encounter

Hold my tiny image freed from facts that come with knowledge

Of the steps that bring me there, distortion built on residue

Of scars and frowns and smiling days

Composing tales from lines and features of the outward “I” they see.

“ Not here”, I think, “ how can I try that lack the love that I must find

Before myself can stand revealed for only when that space is filled

Can another's eyes enlighten me.”

A wanderer on this planet I come across a grassy knoll

Where cradled by the earth I lie still seeking but one true refection

Beyond the realms of fact and friction

And above me bends the dome of sky reflected in my searching eyes.

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