eyes in the face of death

life, sometimes, feels like
lament
punctuated by moments of
joy
and, for the lucky,
under-girded by
deep satisfaction

for some, though
satisfaction is elusive;
then, joy is nothing more
than fleeting happiness

we see it when
faced with death
our own, imminent,
or briefly glimpsed
reveals quickly
what's underneath:
terror, or contentment;
regret, or deep satisfaction

in our own experience
and in the eyes of one
who sees,
(as if having read
the last pages of a mystery)
the way their life will end

in their eyes,
desperation is desolate
while satisfaction
is nothing but
beautifully hopeful