By David Roth
© 1 October, 2003
He gazed at his reflection
And an old man’s eyes looked back
On years once ripe with promise
To colors faded black
He saw the life that he had lived
Reflected in those eyes
And realized naught was hidden there
No secrets or surprise
He saw, through eyes that glimmered back
The pieces and the whole
And knew the sage had rightly seen
The mirrors of the soul
He saw the disappointments there
The failures of his life
Each broken and aborted scheme
Each heartache filled with strife
But as he gazed another visage
Danced across his view
He saw through eyes of wistful hope
Of dreams afresh and new
He saw the lives that he had touched
Whose hint of light he shared
And stood reflecting in the peace
Of someone who had cared
The weary eyes that echoed back
His deep, inquiring stare
Revealed a wealth of life and love
And painful wear and tear
But there in his reflection
The old eyes plainly saw
The sparkling hint of mischief
Was still there, after all
For he had lived a rich life
The reflection did surmise
And as he stepped away he felt
The spark still in his eyes
