A Shrine
The mirror laughs
She points, giggles
Scoffs at aged legs
Mocks a lowly chest
Jeers at a pouch
Belies hips that jiggle
Legs that carried the load
Hips waver
Scorns a lumpy rear
Her view limited
A picture in time
She can’t envision
The joy, the struggle
What looks like less
Is actually more
My aging body
I’ve come to adore
A well-earned badge
A life lived hard
My silhouette doesn’t
Define me
Or speak of worth
The value I hold, endearing
The mirror has no regard for
A chest that sustained a nursing child
A cupped belly carried a soul
A body, a wonder
Worn in the wear
It carries my mind
My thoughts and
Cares
My body, my temple
To be adored
Lovely and lived in
She’s a shrine not a show