how can you possibly know
what beats in my heart
when you look back at me and see
shadows beneath my dark eyes,
fine lines appearing?
do you think you can judge me,
define me, assign me or confine me
to an age, gender, race, mood
or emotion by looking at me?
do you think physical appearance
is the full measure of me ?
when I look back at you, I see the room
of books I have read, the ripeness
of Autumn’s bounteous bliss ,
mountains climbed, rivers crossed.
Then the fleeting twinkle of a mischievous
thought, a dash of adventure, the mystery
of my loves.
I see the yearnings and burnings
of my passions, the flashes of anger
and rage, the etchings of compassion
and concern, the misery of suppression,
fire in my soul,
reckless thoughts in my head,
I hear the thumping of my heartbeat
And the music – can you hear it?
the gentle strumming of a guitar,
rising tempo of the violin,
romance of the saxophone,
nostalgia of the trumpet,
and the melody of the piano, the hunger of
drums beating to the beat-beat-beat.
Admit that I have fooled you, betrayed
you, deceived you, with all that you see.
yet, you’re my ally, my accomplice, my
comforter and my first lover too.