The Mask in the Mirror

There came a time when I looked in the mirror and I thought I looked more like my dad than me...lol.

 

Yesterday my reflection turned away from me

In shame it seemed

It hid behind a mask, embarrassed to show itself

It hid behind a painting of me

That was somehow all wrong, deceptive and perverse

Looking back was a man who had lived

A man who had slept in the sun

Feet cooled by the chill of blue oceans

Drank fine wine from bountiful vineyards

Where grapes hung fecund from wooden lattices

Ate exquisite food from natures table

Laden with the bounty of the seasons

Loved and lost and loved again

Brought children into this world of contradiction and terror

Nurtured and cradled in the darkest night

Whispered words of comfort to babes and wives

A man who carried the scars of his journey

Lines on the map of his face

The first hint of a tired shadow behind the eyes

Flesh less taught than it felt

Skin less tight than it was

And a growing weariness in his bones

 

Yesterday my reflection turned away from my gaze

It showed me who I was

It showed me who I was to the world

Not who I was to me

 

I’m not a child, not a boy, not even a young man, despite what I think,

I am me

Now.