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