BeautifulA Poem by Kristina MoulaisonDealing with mortality and appreciating the one who has always been with me on this journey.In the mirror I watched as tears washed an invisible film from my eyes, removed a veil, a filter by which I saw myself. I realized a judge sat ready to weigh my worth by a set of changing standards and… I knew myself then,
without critique, wholly beautiful, miraculous even. My own best friend looked back at me, naked and unashamed. Each wondrous wrinkle and stretch mark and all the scars hidden in the pools of my eyes, all so beautiful to me.
I am the watcher. I hold my hand, this little girl who has walked courageously on to womanhood holding and bringing life, creating, breathing it into the world, she walks with me and I will not drop her hand.
She has born my pain, shed my tears, picked me up each time I have fallen, sweat and bled with me. She knows my reasons, my fears and my strength.
When she looks at me I will not look past her and wonder why I do not see a thinner, younger, smarter, stronger woman standing there.
I will praise her. I will see her soul. I will comfort her. I will hold her hopes like precious pearls yet to be opened. She has born me up and walked in my shoes and I will call her beautiful.
© 2014 Kristina MoulaisonReviews
|
Stats
483 Views
8 Reviews Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on April 21, 2009Last Updated on February 5, 2014 AuthorKristina MoulaisonBellingham, WAAboutI write. Read me. We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, la.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|