My Face

And then I looked into the skies and saw
a star far brighter yet, than all the rest
And lo it was, that as I looked, this star
came close; and mirrored there within
its Light, I saw a face.

No stranger’s face was this, but mine —
and yet strange it was;
‘Twas not the face from whence I looked
about the world and wore a smile or wore a frown.

But ’twas an Angel’s face this face of
mine, I saw within this star
Its eyes illumined with all the love I’d ever
lived, and yet to live, was shining there.

It’s mouth spoke not the fleshy words that
dealt with things of earth
But from within, it framed a thousand wisest words.
Its checks held not the ruddy glow of
coursing blood, but softly radiant as
a thousand breaking dawns.

This glow of Heavenly health held forth
its promise of Eternal Life.
Ah yes, it was this face of mine, a
wondrous thing to thus behold.
And yet, I knew this face was but the image
of all things held dear and cherished most —
The things yet unlived, unloved, unrealized were there to be.

A promise unfulfilled, this face — and like
the starry Light that held it fast
A beckoning beacon to always lead me on
to greater heights.

Oh yes, I know I’ll never wear this face,
for if I do I’ll lose its charm, its Light, its guiding way.
For so it must remain — the things I see
within its Light will be some day, my Way of Life.

And even so, I’ll add from time to time,
some new and sparkling hue to all of this
And to the face, I’ll add a pliant touch of
what I think a perfect face should be.

by Ernest L. Norman

Excerpt from The Anthenium