a photo staring through me

from viewing a photo of this woman

yet her staring right through me.

I see the aging face of familiar,

looking at and past me

at the same time.

there is residue, as response,

to the past, as its weathering.

there is a steadiness of composition,

by nerves, emotional presence,

the constancy of the ever-change.

untold stories passing 

have chiseled and molded,

been surmised and embraced,

refined and surrendered.

but there are eyes,

as if faceted 

in gem settings of a human face.

they defy time's signature.

they river, 

out of a mountain of composition.

they heartfelt, 

without foreknowledge or judgment.

they possess the timelessness wisdom.

they exude without restraint.

essence travels through them.

they make me feel

shameless about being

and sacred to the self of me,

as the manifest,

I hardly know, 

as well as her . . .