A Shrine

    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