You stand in front of a face either too dark or too bright stares back,
serving as the bleakest night and brightest morning.
To speak to it, to hear it speak, is not easy for those who listen with their ears and speak with a loud voice.
Nothing can stand in its way, and it stands in the way until the right words are spoken,
the search can last forever.
It does not care or change, this face, to one discernable,
not to be understood without pain or malice,
unshrouded and in shade.
Who can tell whether it reveals the dark secrets of the past and future,
or indeed a reflection of some hidden truth.
All is truly hidden here, nothing told is certain.
Speak loudly to it with the words of a beating heart, the only way it will hear,
the only way to stop its own sad mouth from carrying on in despair.
It does not care or change, infinite and finite in its own rules,
giving answers only to hear itself talk again.
Learn to solve, to love the riddles of the heart, or of the universe if you can,
and each will be solved, setting places for new thoughts and forms,
and perhaps this face will finally speak out loud, in your own voice.