Sonnet to the Face of Deep
I see a face and think “Is this a mask?
Has clarity been stolen from those eyes?”
These are the questions which I’m forced to ask
when I’m confronted with a poor disguise.
I often feel I wander in a sphere
inhabited by thin facades. I roam
across the frozen field of falsehood here
and wonder “Is there anyone at home?”
But when I stumble on a countenance
that’s filled with light from Essence deep within,
I’m thankful for its lovely provenance;
for beauty comes from more than merely skin.
So when we meet, however that may be,
may who we really are be what we’ll see.
© Alan Morrison, 2019
The Naked Troubadour 