Where Silver Tears Do Rust

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Middle Years...2001

Today, not unlike most others
While going about my daily deeds
I happened upon a mirror
That I thought needed to be cleaned.

Struck down with an illness
That my body weak and tired fought
I left the mirror cloudy
And some rest, I faintly sought.

Then I looked into the mirror
And thought that I had lost my mind.
The image that I saw was altered.
Myself, I could not find.

The smile that had once adorned my face
Turned downward, faint wrinkles gathered there.
Strands of white, unruly locks
Had replaced my once soft and shiny hair.

My eyes, I could not see at all.
The windows to my soul were gone.
The blues and greens and flecks of gold
Now only sorrow shown.

I walked away, now weary
My mind searching for your eyes
I could not find them any place
I sobbed as I realized;

'Twas not a cloudy mirror
Alas, my mind, it had not failed.
It was my heart, now aged and tired
With the sword of loss, it had been impaled.

Sometime in my middle years
I lost my passion, drive and hope
I searched for the hand that once held mine
I cried out. I crawled. I groped.

'Till alas, I finally slipped away
Refusing then to realize
That my heart was no longer safe
I found no favor in those eyes.

I fought hard to get the feeling back
For years I sought in vain
For the heart that I had married
But it too had slipped away.

To where? I'll never understand
Tormented by painful thoughts
It ran and hid, it lost my hand
My trust, forever lost.

With a sword it did impale
My spirit and my soul
It tore apart my fragile heart
That at best, was barely whole.

Now well into my middle years
I search and find your eyes.
My spirit, I see, held safely there
No tormented thoughts or lies.

The mirror was not cloudy.
Alas, I was too blind to see
That I had not lost the windows to my soul;
In another's
They were being held safe for me...

L.A.Mc Nabb
15 September, 2001

Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved



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Middle Years...2001