Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Reflection I see


who’s reflection do I see?

as I stand before this mirror

the image tis both clear and real, it cannot be me.

my mind’s own eye hast its own image clear

dressed and colored with prejudice free

who’s reflections do you see?

who’s reflections do I see?

this mirror cannot lie,

but shows a face full in imperfections

masked with colors sharp and clean

on skin with soft and subtle lines of age.

mine own vision, an aging beauty be.

who’s reflections do you see?

who’s reflections do I see?

the mirror sees only outside, not what’s within.

her time before the mirror is short, her pain hidden well

until others gladly welcomes the person she sees

her joy to share with all, her true reflections

only then can mirrors see the image she knows

is hidden until her true self is who you see?

As I stand before the mirror in the bathroom, the image I see reflecting back still does not match up with the image that I carry around in my mind. Going through the day without noticing my reflection I get a sense of false security, not seeing the stain on my blouse, how bad my hair has been messed up by the wind, or if I have small bits of food around my face, because I didn't wash up after I ate. You study other people, how they look at you with a quick smile, or you study how they put the clothes and accessories together, or the way they carry themselves. But because you can't see your face, you try to match the different images in your head with what you guess you look like.

For me, the image that I held in my mind was of a younger person with less wrinkles. I know and remember how I had dressed that morning; a woman or a man when I was living in the two worlds, if for some reason I wasn't able to see my body, I could very easily believe I was a different person, a snapshot of me from my past.

I still need to examine my reflections as a sort of pinch of reality. To assure myself that the woman looking back at me is really me. And I am very happy and contented to be who I am. The people I meet in the halls or the mall see and recognizes the person walking towards them is just another happy woman, doing what she need to get done. And I am happy with that thought.

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