Through the Looking Glass

Pan is a mirror.

Our reflections wait for answers

to questions as yet unasked, 

only now comes the reckoning.

Do you see a life well lived?

Tally the score of dreams fulfilled,

good deeds done, loves requited,

sacrifices made.

Tally, too, the debts and demerits,

the regrets that lie heavy in your bones

and in your heart.

Pan whispers—

Time is slipping by.

Are there things left undone? Unsaid?

Will you be ready, if you are called?

When you are called?

Don’t fear the glass.

She’s trying to tell you something.