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.
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