There’s a woman in my mirror,
And
she looks a lot like me.
Though
there’s lines around her eyes,
And
her hair is wild and free.
She
is plumper than myself,
And
she is definitely grey.
Did
I miss the day this happened
Has she always been this way?
And
this woman in the mirror,
Has
an air of something calm.
Like
a tide that’s going out,
And
a beach that’s soft and warm.
She
has seen the world in color,
She
has learned to know the truth.
There’s
a wisdom in her wrinkles,
There’s a knowledge brought from youth.
And
she seems to move more freely,
As
though released from earthly binds.
Is
she made of something lighter?
Perhaps
the weight she left behind.
Like
the press of expectation,
And the need to yield and bend.
I
like this woman in the mirror,
She’s fast becoming my best friend.
