There’s a woman in my mirror
And she looks a lot like me,
Though there’s lines around her eyes,
And her hair is wild and free.
She is plumper than myself,
And she is definitely grey.
Did I miss the day this happened
Has she always been this way?
And this woman in the mirror
Has an air of something calm,
Like a tide that’s going out,
And a beach that’s soft and warm.
She has seen the world in colour,
She has learned to know the truth.
There’s a wisdom in her wrinkles,
There’s a knowledge brought from youth.
And she seems to move more freely,
As though released from earthly binds.
Is she made of something lighter?
Perhaps the weight she left behind.
Like the press of expectation,
And the need to yield and bend.
I like this woman in the mirror,
She’s fast becoming my best friend.