My daughter tells me
The new mirror in my room
Could be like the one found
In her favorite story
Revealing the deepest desires
I settle my worn pink yoga mat in front
And stare into it holding my tree pose
Straining to see what I am supposed to want
But the reflection is just a woman getting older
Gathering doubts and fears like souvenirs
Wrapped in dust and covering the dressers
My daughter tells me
She sees herself clothed in magic
Traveling and flying through open doors to desire
No one has yet told her she should not have
All those things that will dissolve into shards
Like the old mirror when it fell
As all dreams do.
But you gave me this new mirror
And I’m trying to see magic there
Perhaps the gardens I could have
In a house that is my own
Full of music and laughter
Instead of ghosts and clutter
Sunrises over oceans
And full moons over mountains
Life that is holy and held in the light
But I think perhaps all
I need this mirror to show me
Is my own story
On the other side of the ache
To want or be wanted
To have faith or surrender
But sufficient in this moment
Drawing my own portrait
Remembering what it is
To be both stripped and clothed in magic
Roots and branches
Held in the light
Every shard a flame
That would be enough
