Smoke and Mirrors
To see myself as others see me – ah, that would be a trick,
Worthy of a great magician. All I see is the greying hair,
The jaw losing definition, the eyes that look like my mother’s.
But when I look in the mirror of my sons’ eyes,
When they hug me and say, ``silly old woman,’
Voices rich and warm with laughter and love,
I see a reflection I can love too.
Silly old woman, to think I will ever get so crusty,
They won’t want to hug me.
2 Comments:
Sometimes when people hold up the mirror here I am in awe of how they see me and wonder if it is me that they are really looking at. Being the recipient of warm hugs is a good measure of the perception of others Gail.
As I found out in my exercise, there are a hundred different views that people can see, only one of which may be right. I think Lois is right.
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