~a poem by Bonnee Klein Gilligan

QuanYinRock-Sedona - photo by Light ©2002-2008 Bonnee Klein Gilligan. All rights reserved.

Your face is hidden by a book

a picture of the cover.

Which holds inside a group of thoughts

about a time, about a place

but not about the man himself.

Perhaps the surface… not the depth

  the fullness, sense or feeling.

There are no words, which can describe

the tactile sense, inside the mind

   inside the soul, inside the being.

Inside the fullness of the man

that’s who you are indeed.


A face describes itself with life

of all it’s seen and all it’s done.

It scribes upon it lines of age

sweet misery, sweet joy.

Every hair of snowy white

  is honor that is earned in life.

Age is wisdom, color, flavor

experience itself to savor.

Wear it proudly, fly it high

   this flag of story, let none deny.


A place in time, describes an age

a youth or man and now a sage.

All slots in time, placeholders only

filled up with life, sweet love or sorrow.

Experienced within a moment

   for this is all we have… right now.

Life’s never over, until you claim it

be what you want, live it, name it.

It is our clay, modeled with desires

and shaped with every choice.

Choose life my friend, and live it well

with laugher filled and dancing joy.

Alive, awake and in sweet dreams

For life is what we make it.

Will you show your face to me?

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