Grandpa's Shaving Mirror

On life’s sweet sage trail, there are many things we see: Like grandfather’s ranch house where good times used to be. There’s a ancient shaving mirror hung on a nail, That he used to shave his face each day without fail. You wonder as you gaze, what that mirror could tell— Before time’s closing night darkened the light and fell. Did he see an old man or what he used to be? Or only wild roses when he was young and free? Was he like us now, and remembered just the best? Or did his scars go deeper to his final rest? And as we look into that old shaving mirror— Will we think on life’s doubts and then see them clearer? For all the world’s a looking glass we stare into— And what we see must please us before we are through. Yes, I still have that mirror, but I seldom look— In it I see gramps and he reads me like a book. So now I hide it away like grandpa’s old spurs And endure these modern times as this old world whirs. Yet in darkest moments, I look into that glass And know that like grandfathers – things we love must pass.