Strangers

Strangers 

You ask me who I am
Some days I'm not sure myself
I can tell you who I want to be
but then act like someone else
They say don't talk to strangers
but that's just who I see
what if the stranger in question
is me?

I'm looking at a stranger
across from me in that glass
there's just so many questions
I'd like for him to ask
but every pending question
is like an arrow to the heart
asking why so great a chasm
between the call and where you are

There's lines where there wasn't
and on the whole there's more grey
time it seems, hasn't gone unpaid
and it's clear what was it's wage
the image in the mirror
may have it's comments to make
and while its image says what I look like
it lies about who I am

truth is you're looking at a stranger
an alien and traveller
a citizen away from home
an ambassador from a foreign place
bearing the image of my king
and the message of his grace

so when you see him live and present in the flesh

I don't want you to be looking at a stranger
a companion you never really knew
a figure out of focus, kept just out of view
when the sun fades into sunset
and we stare long into the night
amongst every joy and failure 
I want to see you by my side.