Mirror In The Morning

Mirror in the morning,

What face do you reflect?

A keen enquiring visage,

That does study and inspect.

As I stare and wonder,

At the likeness in your shine,

I’m fraught with thoughts confusing;

Which eyes are really mine?

Flashing form and figure,

From a surface smooth and thin,

What would your picture be without

My experience within?

So when at last I leave you,

What fills your glossy plane?

With no one to peer and ponder,

What does that glass contain?

Mirror In The Evening

Once again I’m taken

To the mirror in my room.

And gaze upon the image there;

The self that I assume.

The countenance is strange to me;

This reflection I behold.

Signs of age are posted there;

Once young, it now looks old.

Is it “my” face in the mirror?

Is my being captured there?

Or is it an illusion,

Born of One that is aware?

These thoughts and doubts do blind me

Even though my eyes are clear;

Lost in an optic echo,

Far away from now and here.