The face I see
Finds a likeness
Of one I know,
Yet ‘tis not clear
What years ago,
Familiar visage be…
Tho beyond score
Plus ten or more,
Enacts days stored
Of steady change,
In time sculpt crags
Upon judged mine,
While a viewed game
Of life’s erratic bane
Leaves me yet doubt,
Held the face I see
Be but of distant mind!
Poetry on a canapé 
I know this experience. Well said.
Isn’t it odd that we only start appreciating a picture of oneself 10 or 15 years after if was taken. Thank you Paulette. Jean-Jacques
With every New Year, I realize, all the more that our timeline has a forward action. I remind myself of all the marvelous adventures I have been on, knowing that there will be more are to come. But they will be different and their success will depend upon my ability to transition and embrace the unknown. As Meister Eckhart once wrote, “And suddenly you know: It’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.”
And they who recognize the hints and innuendoes can start the exciting process of self reinvention without hesitation. Marvellous isn’t it…? Nothing like it, and it, is what keeps me fully alive. Jean-Jacques
Lovely.
J’ai tout compris, du moins les mots…
Thanks Diane, It’s a start, as from the words comes a picture, or pictures of which will open to your head space at the time of reading. Which at times can be somewhat different than my inspiration for writing. Poetry is like a painting, as it is all about what you personally see / read, and feel. Jean-Jacques