Mother/Daughter Reflections

 

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 hands,

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,

Her affections,

Her food.

The expressions on her face pay her no justice

For all the freedom

She has given in her sacrifices.

 

Eve T. Remillard & Mary Gabis