Paused before the liquid timbre
of still reflecting glass,
a subtle riot carries on
retreating to the pass
where safe between the tone of youth
and wisdom’s keen desire,
squarely sits the aged denial
that pissed away life’s fire.
For there in mirror’s honest pond
the lines of age creep in.
There behind that child’s smile
the truth of time has been.
What of it then when bones decay
and all the steel’s to rust?
Will the temporal posts announce
gestalt there in the dust?
Will the meter stand to time
amidst each crafted lay?
Or will the echoes wrap the pen
and tuck it all away?
It passes in a moment,
chances caught leave most denied,
claims the yearning, clinging on
behind the aging eyes, defied.
Yet sparkled in the crystal blue
at flight in ether’s mystic truth,
does live the timeless heart, a poet,
penning hope to trade for proof.
jaybluepoems 
I love the closing of this poem. It is satisfying, yet leaves you wanting more. A lovely piece!
Thank you. And thanks for following my writing. Means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you again…
Jay, your words sing today.. against the time can the poet stand… what a wonderful thought. I will remember that next time i see the decay in my mirror…
Thanks Bjorn – I have to find that feeling quite often these days it seems… but the written word is timeless… or so I believe and hope. Good day to you sir!
What a lovely reflection on words ~ These lines specially resonated with me:
Yet sparkled in the crystal blue
at flight in ether’s mystic truth,
does live the timeless heart, a poet,
penning hope to trade for proof.
Lovely verses Jay ~
Thank you Grace
Wow, that ending is excellent. Sometimes I feel like I have that ‘timeless heart’ as well!
I’m sure you do Mary… thank you for reading and commenting. Glad you enjoyed the verse.
Exceptional! I enjoyed it all but especially the flow as in;
What of it then when bones decay
and all the steel’s to rust?
Will the temporal posts announce
gestalt there in the dust?
Will the meter stand to time
amidst each crafted lay?
Or will the echoes wrap the pen
and tuck it all away?
Thanks John! I love writing this stuff! I do appreciate you kind comments. Thank you!
the timeless heart of a poet… yeah – physically we age and there’s no way out – but that doesn’t mean that our soul and spirit do as well..
aaahhh – and the written word, can certainly be timeless… yes?
“The times, they are a changin’,” but the words of poets live forever. What a great poem you have written here.
Thanks Alex – I completely agree… timeless… (I hope)…
That’s why I don’t like to look in the mirror anymore… and I love your ending.
Thank you Laurie, but there’s more in the mirror than what you can perceive. You can also see what you feel, through the twinkle of the child in your eyes, that is you. Timeless.
beyond what we see in the mirror of the pool, there is that heart that lives as old or young as we let it be….nice flow through out jay…
Thanks Brian!
i watched my spirit die before..and saw the bright spirit of the eyes of my 94 year old aunt at 47 for me…
half a man was i..but less even than a half a spirit..
that knew no age..as Aunt..creeping across the floor with walker..
but bright light..still shining in blind eyes..
was proof enough for me to know..
there is something much greater in this world..
beyond the old….
of life..
perhaps..in part..that is why
i too live NOW…
That’s awesome! Thanks for visiting!
beautiful ending!
Thank you!