Poem: The Mirror Lies

Saturday Poem: The Mirror Lies

To Julia de Burgos

“I wanted to be as men wanted me to be:

an attempt at life;

a game of hide and seek with my being.

But I was made of presents,

and my flat feet over the promised land

could not bear walking backwards,

they persisted forward, forward,

mocking the ashes to reach the kiss of new paths.”

Translated by Maria Mar

The mirror lies.

It shows me an old, ugly, fat woman.

Her hair is dry and thin.

Her skin is dry and stained with age,

riddled with imperfections.

Her body is a lump of fat,

one crease folding onto the next,

like a sack of potatoes poorly packed.

I look at her with dread,

but she steals her glance and hides.

The mirror lies.

I know it lies

because when I had 20 slim and beautiful years,

I already saw her: old, ugly and fat.

And when I was 30 and vibrant

there she was, with her brittle hair and stained skin.

And when I was 40 and strong,

she was still there,

making me hide from myself in dread of myself.

And now that I am 60 and old

according to old records;

she’s still there,

pretending to be me.

But I know now who I am;

for now I see myself

with the eyes of my Divinity.

I see the long, sensual curve

of my hair gracefully falling to one side,

framing my face.

I see my delicious smile

inviting the world to sing in joy.

I see my dazzling eyes where magic dances

and life vibrates with lucid colors.

I appreciate my glowing skin expressing the radiance of my Essence.

I admire my female curves

and the perfect balance between

my generous breasts and my voluptuous hips.

I now see the woman I’ve always been:

Ageless, Divine, beautiful.

Sensual. Graceful. A delight.

The mirror no longer lies

because now I see the truth.

Maria Mar (c)

April 19, 2014

New York

 * Julia de Burgos is a Puerto Rican poet who lived and wrote from 1914 to 1953, where she died in New York. She is my Poetic mother. She revealed to me at a young age the true language of my soul: poetry.

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