Introspective Moment

When, how and where exactly did my youth go?
I look at my reflection, experiences are etched
Upon my face, as if an artist's unseen hand,
Unknown, unfelt by me has worked and sketched
My memories. Laughter, sometimes pain, lines are fanned
Out from my eyes, troughs in once velvet skin now show.

I finger them, watched by eyes that still enquire.
It is so long since I sat and really looked at me.
I used to often converse silently, try to make sense
Of my inner reflections, then my imaged eyes did not see
Beyond that day, or moment, so passionate then and tense,
Ruled by hope and expectation, fuelled by an inner fire.

Now I take my time, I study my reflected face.
Do I still have dreams with all the suffering I’ve seen?
Is my fire put out? Do I still believe life is wonderful?
Uncertainties remain, some thoughts, like there’s never been
This passage of relentless time, inexorable as the moon’s pull
Upon earth’s gravity, surging, ebbing; I stare into the space…

Behind me in the mirror, he wakes; I am no longer alone,
I smile, rise, greet the new day, leave my introspective throne.