Ah, life with all it's trials and tribulations...

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

-William Butler Yeats

Either one could be a possibility.
I sensed two fold intentions there. It struck me as the poet's unrequited love.
Trying to awaken her senses before she grew old and having to read his poem filled with regret.

"Only three things are infinite: the sky in its stars, the sea in its drops of water, and the heart in its tears."
- Gustave Flaubert

I need to diffuse
I'm a little bemused by my muse
dazed and confused
I need to defuse
but I will return to, hopefully, entertain and amuse.

Dave

Glad to see you back, Dave.
I see what you mean...
Two faces in a frame - Harvest Moon - made me pause and reflect on
the artist's thoughts beyond the canvas, similar to the example
you mention. Writers, musicians, painters express feelings/emotions
in different ways but all with great heart and some mystery -
leaving the reader, listener or viewer to interpret in their own light.
Ergo, the delight and satisfaction we receive from such grand offerings.


"Every secret of a writer's soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works."
- Virginia Woolf

Music is what feelings sound like.

"Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand."
- Plato

Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight.

...and finally...

"Beware of advice - €”even this."
- €”Carl Sandburg

Unfortunately, most of us don't live life to the fullest and
considering the old adage, 'this isn't a dress rehearsal', it's sad.
Those who stay open to new things have less regrets when looking
back and warm memories to sustain them - else you hold only
the shadows.

Choose

The single clenched fist lifted and ready,
Or the open asking hand held out and waiting.
Choose:
For we meet by one or the other.

-Carl Sandburg