the women in the mirror. pt 2 of 4
. . .
She has my eyes,This woman who reflects me.
She faces me as I stare back into the foggy stained glass mirror.
Through every stage, she grows older, stronger before me
I look to her for wisdom-- I am her own reflection.
To the woman in the mirror, are you there and do you see me too?
In my world, I stare at her in my happiest and weakest moments
With her strength and clear dry eyes, she catches my tears and makes me laugh.
With her strength and clear dry eyes, she catches my tears and makes me laugh.
The warmth of her gaze , soothes the tremble of my hands, and eases the thump of my heart.
I rejoice!
No longer do dark feelings linger, no longer do poor events or life's complications hold me back.
Lost through my cracked mirror.
I am taught that wisdom grows like flowers beneath my feet.
Through the eyes of the woman who looks like me, with lack of words,
Through the eyes of the woman who looks like me, with lack of words,
she encourages me,
and wipes my tears.
A faint noise in the distance tells me,
I am already wise and tomorrow I will be wiser.
and wipes my tears.
A faint noise in the distance tells me,
I am already wise and tomorrow I will be wiser.
. . .
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