Fifty ~ Years

At 5:35 pm,
I've been here fifty~years...


How could this be,
this passage of time
that is no more than the flutter of butterfly wings...


Of a sigh that escapes
the speed that years fly,
as my body
shifts and changes
while the young woman who is twenty
still pulls at my heart
and says
there is no difference
in the stranger who looks
at us in the mirror...


My life,
like a secret box
of beauty,
unfolds before me,
a mystery,
I don't understand,
like wanting to know
what lies
the glass lid of a magic box,
that is as incomplete
as the fifty years that lie before me...


Photos: Taken the day before my fiftieth birth day of the glass box I am creating out of a gourd, paper, mirrored tiles, tempered glass, jasper orbs, tourmaline, gold paint, and an iron sconce.