Mirror not framed, but edged by daybreak,
reflects a world that only I can know.
Where every line tells a story – mine,
yet also a stranger’s face;
two eyes,
moonlit pools,
care worn cheeks,
a map of moments,
lived and felt.
You’ve felt them too?
Palimpsest lips,
dry; infertile now.
My hair - a crown of silver.
My neck,
though scrawny,
supports the weight of time,
where past and present mix;
and the mirror -
it doesn’t split hairs.
But I see the beauty,
of that long ago girl.
She dances barefoot,
through my dreams.
Do you see her too?
Two eyes,
golden pools,
apple cheeks,
a promise of passion -
a future mission
to live and feel.
You’ve lived them too?
In the mirror I am mosaic;
each glimmer, a lesson learned,
and in the wrinkles,
folded like origami,
waits wisdom to face each dawn.
I smile at the girl who once was,
knowing she is the roots
of what I have become,
and of who I will be.
Looking back at me she accepts
the wisdom of this fully.