Looking In.

So I looked,
Face to face with He,
In the mirror, and
In the forever busy brain
In the darkness of the mind.
Who are you, what do you want,
What do you see?
Why am and What am I… me.
The red is grey and now,
You want the red back, ironic.
And there is age, sageness
Lucky enough to be
But; oh for a second chance!
There is memory, lines of
People, places, cars and
Faces.
Schools, walks and talks.
And life. Time seems too fast
And time feels too short.
The eyes still see and
All the other senses function
For now. Although
Six of them hardly seems enough.
There are broken things,
Mended things,
Lost and discarded things.
Lots of new things too,
And they are quite, well
Quite the surprise.
Full of life,
And purpose
Of energy and challenge.
And the blood pumps freely
In all sorts of ways and
For all sorts of reasons,
Yes the heart is very full.
Life began at 18, then 40 then 50.
Now each day, anew
Has me face to face
Heart to heart.
Knowing only I can thwart
The destiny and joy of this old
Piece of abstract art.

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