Reflections On a Photograph of Audrey Hepburn

Reflections on a photograph of Audrey Hepburn I know those eyes, that haunt my dreams and Fan my fevered imagination; they are windows Into the soul, messengers of my fate. To look within is to face oneself, and all one's fears and hopes, reflected in their laughing Twinkle, lit by their shine of understanding And compassion. Those eyes; the ghosts Of things past, that linger yet. Who has not looked into these eyes? Who? Whose soul has not questioned itself Seeing into that of another; that once danced In time, but now moves to another tune, Dissonant? Who has not hoped, beyond hope, That time will stand still, that the hour will Not come and the abyss open to eternal Despair? And, the arabesques of those eyes lure us To damnation, to the foolishness of hope and Denial of what lies before us. But, in time, The cold chill of silence speaks its truth And hope dies and we find peace. Yet, still, in moments of doubt and disinhibition, Those eyes draw us in and resolve Weakens and faint hope is fuelled to fire.