You’ve seen so many of my faces, good and bad days.
But will you consider this?
Each face was looking directly into your eyes, asking you to stay with me, come away with me, into the future unknown, my hands looking for yours, always, promising to hold.
If you grow tired of my faces, I will understand. If you grow tired of time that carries us, that looks as if it’s passing by.
But I will never understand why you would refuse this offering, or doubt, since each day, through all its peculiar motions, I hand over the same heart.
Spirit of Tara 