“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label growing older. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing older. Show all posts
Friday, March 6, 2015
Haven't I seen you somewhere before
The soul divided
Twice undone
to the power of one
made whole by reflection
The moment of the shortest light
Good and Evil ebbs and flows
in the Noon and Midnight glows
your shadow hides, refusing to pose
You are still the same You
even as you grow and change
recognizing your old self as strange
A reunion of sorts
to meet in the middle
of life, like solving a riddle
reminding one of deja vu a little
Don't be afraid to peer deeply
past the pane, into the windows of the soul
while reciting the rote lines of your role
Acting like still life takes its mindless toll
Notice the view as you climb
Up, or don't and stay the same
but you cannot blame
your over elevated aim
Running into yourself
after all these years
no longer judged by your peers
or motivated by fears
Easily spooked, a sketchy outline
of who you really are
now grown older and traveled afar
mapped and trapped by your own falling star.
Image By Harrison Weir (1824-1906) "Reflection" [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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