I stare at myself in the glare
Of the mirror
And wonder what became of
My youth, my beauty.
I see the same eyes, my mouth,
The furrow I make with my brows
When I think,
And realize those have not aged.
I turn, and look at the beauty
I have created who smiles back at me,
And wonder at what I have created
Her youth, her beauty
With my eyes the same green,
A different mouth,
Love and kindness radiating from within.
Her feet do not stay in one place,
Her wanderlust hungry for knowledge
Of other people, places, cultures.
Her freedom to explore this Earth fascinates me
As she brings the world home to me
With her vivid descriptions, her passion.
At first glance,
I am not my mother’s daughter.
But get a little closer and
you’ll see I have her eyes,
her hair in the favoring lighting.
When I look at the woman from whom these traits have been shared,
I see myself too.
I wonder what she thinks of me,
With my features from her and
My free heart as well.
She will tell you she isn’t as free
But I disagree.
Her freedom is in her words,
The expressions on her face pay her no justice
For all the freedom
She has given in her sacrifices.
Eve T. Remillard & Mary Gabis