Through the looking glass
Can this young woman find me
through the looking glass mind
(the etheric) she’ll soon look through
with eyes young to see that which
few will ever see, . . . and understand?
Will her fresh presence banish sorrow
which has lingered far too long
(in this young, older man’s heart),
needlessly solo, quietly languishing for
just such a one (and only) to appear?
When I look into her eyes, sighing,
I see new, unexpected answers, . . . waiting,
only her heart has been given.
I wait now in hope and love of her,
to hear what’s never been heard . . .
. . . from the sweetest lips, never kissed this way.