THE MIRROR




BY AMBER NICOLE RICHARDS



I walk into my bedroom, and set upon the wall

My favorite mirror waits for me, standing six foot tall.


It's a magic item when you know how to use it right,

And I draw upon its energy nearly every night.


No one else can activate it, as hard as they may try,

For the only way to turn it on is through my mind's eye.


Its power isn't obvious, at least not from the start.

It lets me see right through myself, into my very heart.


My corporeal image fades away into a swirling mist.

I see myself for who I am, what others often missed.


A part of me that's frightened, fearful of the words

That they would use to hurt me, whispered, but still heard.


My body hair is soft and blonde, eyebrows arched and thin.

My waistline like an hourglass, my arms and legs so slim.


Like rays of sunlight, golden tresses cascade down in curls,

For in my heart, indeed my soul, I’m just one of the girls.


Of gifts and gods and blessings, I don't know all the laws,

But I glance upon this mirror, and it truly gives me pause.


The mystic truth it bears brings the whole of me in line.
To see inside your very soul, is no less than divine.