At age 68 I am faced with this, no delaying, no avoiding, no dodging, no postponing. I would not trade this for any other time in my life. Before I had the energy and stamina to use will, distraction, ambition, romance, fear, alcohol, dreams, fantasies, behavioral, suave, salve, ego gymnastics, whatever. Still in good health, fitness and fortune (lucky) I am faced with soul stripped bare, regardless of circumstance or any effort the glow on my face comes from the exit sign. If this is base reality and I am a Goldilocks twinkle in a cosmos born of who know what origin I must face my soul. If I am the experiment of some superior species and I am living in a matrix I must face my soul. If I am a product of incomprehensible timeless spaceless God I must face my soul. If it is some combination I must face my soul. If my creator or origin is none of the above I must face my soul. My mortality is a wonderful patient insistent teacher of the honesty of your poem. Thank you.