The Writers' Circle

I glance at myself standing there,
No thoughts or reflection about my life,
I'm still too young; unsteady when I stand,
There's always someone there beside me holding my hand.

Growing older and running free,
I don't stop there long enough,
To capture my essence for more than a minute,
My mother embraces me and stands next to me in it.

On my wedding day as we hold on tight,
We're joined together as one for life,
When I awake in the morning before my lover,
I see myself never belonging to another.

Growing old as life passes by,
I reach for a hand but there's no one there,
Could that really be me; no recognition to my waist,
Returned to unsteadiness from all the seasons I've chased?

When I look I see all that I've ever been,
Sister, Mother, Aunt, and Best Friend,
My reflection has changed and so has my form,
But my heart's still the same in this body I adorn.