Many Faces

First to appear is the innocent child.
The student and the clay.
Here is a face waiting to be made,
Hair is no issue, it does what it cares.
Brow often scratched and lips that laugh.
Trust from the unknowing eyes.
This is a vessel that waits to be full,
And a ship setting out on a journey.



Next to appear is the young dreamer.
The lover and romantic.
Here is a wild and playful face.
Scruffy with hair roughly tousled
With smooth brow and smiling lips,
A spark that shines from curious eyes
This is hunger for life's adventures
And lust for life's secret treasures.



Then lo and behold - the harried father.
The teacher and protector.
Here is a watchful and proud face,
Hair that is sometimes neglected.
A furrowed brow and lips often chewed.
And tears from eyes that can see time passing.
This is longing to slow down the clock
And desire to spend more time.



Finally is the wise man deep inside,
The shaman to the soul.
Here is a weathered old face.
White bearded with thinning hair,
With wrinkled brow and pursed lips,
Crows feet radiating from tired eyes
This is experience gained through life,
And knowledge gained through living.



So come now - see - the face on display
The cumulative conglomeration.
The sum of all the other faces,
Laughter and tears, sorrow and joy.
Regrets, neglects, triumphs, and victories.
All knowing and yet oh so eager to learn.
This is the face the world outside sees.
This is the face that defines who I am.