Tonsurephobia

Getting my beard trimmed at the barber's one day and....stuff happens

The razor pausing at my throat,
purring in anticipation of its target 
gives pause to all that's logical
as I behold in the mirror, 
a tiny tremor in the eye 
of the holder

The blade hums as it hovers in stillness, 
humbly awaiting  final commandment
from its supreme commander
as he beholds in the mirror,
the fury in the eye 
of his tormentor

My silent and sudden prayer ends,
with humble thoughts of gratitude 
to my own ultimate authority
when I behold in quiet bliss,  
the serenity in the hand 
of my barber