A face is not seen

It is perceived

In an endless reflection of the self

Yours, mine, and theirs

Mirrors of life

All the same over and over

Taken and moulded into shapes

And colors of emotion and motion

The same faces fading in and out of time

Your own, his, hers, still your own

Face made by face

Time by passing time

And never seeing the face, the self

But in others

To truly see the face, to mould in entirety

The face, the time, the soul, the life 

The motion of the being with steady hands

Is to be god yourself.