Not a Girl Anymore

by Justine C. Tajonera

Not a girl anymore,
I conclude, catching
a glimpse of myself
in the mirror.
Twice a mother,
carrying scars
and two children
gone before they
were born.
My sorrows and joys have
run deep enough
but they are
far from over.
I cannot imagine yet
my face as
grandmother.
I forget my age
sometimes,
letting my body
remind me,
now and then.

My concerns have expanded
beyond the all consuming
fires of infatuation
and the uncertainties
of my identity.
I have traveled to the
shores of birth and death and nursing
and the undefinable
ecstasies and fears
of having a child.
I have chosen a life
of giving,
walled in all sides
by the limitations
of the world,
unable to contain
the infinity of the new
souls in my
keeping.

Not a girl anymore,
I conclude,
not anyone I recognize
from ten years
ago.

(July 23, 2010)

Image from Commons.Wikimedia.