© 2018 Beverley J. Hanna
I look in the mirror and what do I see?
A grizzled old hag who looks nothing like me;
She’s wrinkled and fat and has hairs on her chin.
I’m vital and slim and she’s ugly as sin.
Inside, I’m a girl with the hubris of youth.
My thoughts are self-centred, judgemental, uncouth.
“I’m fit and I’m smart and I’m quite lovely too.
“I couldn’t turn into a Wrinkly like you.”
And yet as we stare at each other’s visage
The more I accept that it’s not a mirage.
‘Cause each missing tooth, each wrinkle and scarring
Are stories that tell of a life full of caring.
The longer we gaze into each other’s eyes,
I see qualities there that I recognize.
There’s wisdom and humour, forgiveness and grace.
A world of experience lives in that face.
This woman before me lived life from the heart.
She’s not just some Wrinkly, some silly old fart.
I’m the person I am from the choices she made.
And I love that I’m her, not that foolish young maid.