Mirrors Do Lie

It was carried up so carefully, 

Belgium glass, framed in rosewood, 

Placed at a vantage point, 

A cynosure of all eyes.

Beyond myself in joy,

I pirouetted on the newly laid floor.

My little dream,

housed in bricks,

Finally overhead. 

Running to the mirror 

I stood still in glee,

Marvelling at its beauty,

Its affinity with its new home,

Its members so proud and carefree.

My gaze shifted,

A person I saw within.

The curly locks, the plump face,

The unrecognizable visage,

The careless dress.

Was that the same person of yore,

The flush of youthful candour, 

Tender joy bubbling over,

Smiling back at me?

The new mirror was a showpiece. 

But I was a shadow of what I used to be.

Time passing through the fingers,

now rough and with its own tale to tell.

In silent dismay, I stood 

Moments weighed down 

Startling revelation 

When had I really seen myself last?

The minute hand crept in apathy.

Dusk fell on a silent house.

I slowly left the window sill 

Where visionless I had been staring out.

Switching on the lights,

Making the rounds dejectedly,

I slowly returned to the mirror,

Not without much bravado,

I looked into it again.

No, innocence, naivety not around. 

Glow certainly gone.

Utopian sparkle quite missing still.

But a balanced, more sedate face stared back.

Knowledge, distilled and understood,

Had brought a calm confidence.

Newfound gentleness born with daily nurturing, 

Lines of happiness marked from happy domestic runs,

Years of caring and sharing,

Crumpled frock a statement of comfort in real relationships,

Extra fat adding that lovely kindliness.

Signs of fatigue, 

A sure indicator of a full home...

Surely nothing was missing in the mirror. 

Nothing that I wanted to see.

My eyes smiled back at me happily. 

Mirrors do lie.

The truth lies not in what you believe you see.

The deeper you look, the more it reveals.

Reflection rings true only on true reflection.