My face is a mess
I have broken out again
in spots
yet one more of the many joys of being a woman
that never ceases, it would seem
no matter one’s age
and today no amount of cover-up
will do as advertised
normally, as I don’t really have to be
anywhere today
I would grumble a bit and then gladly leave the mirror behind
and just not be bothered
in a practice of not stressing myself about things
I cannot change
things that are beyond my control
(see most things!)
I could just leave this mess,
not look
but this morning I am expecting a visitor
and who
wants to look at this?
so I dab on a little make-up
and I wipe it off and I dab it on
and I wipe it off
in utter frustration, and growing helplessness
Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
… and yet there they sit
staring back at me
nasty little blemishes
with pale bits of make-up smeared around
masking absolutely
nothing
and so, (in a practice)
I surrender my need
for cover
turn the noise down on my inner dialogue
and instead, I let it be…
my face is a mess,
but I
am
not
it is after all a perfectly perfect day
outside
to walk with gratitude
in the light of sunshine
to look for myself among the flowers
and as seems to happen,
without fail
it is here that I find
myself
reflected
in a lovely little black-eyed Susan
as she sits
among the other bloomers
her delicate petals folded in
covering her face
not yet ready to open herself up
to the world
I smile at this little beauty
with love
gently willing her petals to
unfold
I pause,
put my hand to my heart
and then,
in kindness
I
let
her
be…
as I know,
soon enough
the glorious sun will works it’s magic
and she will be drawn by this
beautiful light
to bravely opening herself
fully
in her own time
assured in the
knowledge
that her real beauty
always
shines from
within
blemishes
and
all ♥