OYA, The Winds of Change

- for Mishlen -

Who is it who's questing glance I catch
in every glinting shard and plane of glass
staring
as if I am a well-known stranger?

Who conceals herself in expectant purple shadows as I pass,
who haunts my every step a liminal
presence
at the borders of awareness?

What place have challenging dark eyes and timorous face
in what has become the quiet
order
of my life?

Yet Time will wreak the sea-change.

In reflections from smooth planes of glass
now hungrily
I seek that face so filled with silent knowing.

In swirling purple shadows I am cast
yearning
for the challenge of dark eyes that mirror mine.

For in seeking the other I find
The Eye of the Storm,
The Hurricane.

For in seeking the Other
I find
Myself.