Beauty

I see beauty all around me,

the smile of a child with an ice cream, dancing in the sandy playgrounds

a bird on the water glistening in the sun, soaring high in the clouds

the veins of a blade of grass, or a flower blooming proudly

The interior beauty of a kind man/woman opening the door

or helping put away groceries for an elderly person.


Why don't I see the beauty in myself,

I know I can be kind, beautiful inside,

Yet I cry, feel insignificant and unhelpful

wondering at night, did I do what is right

while I should be sleeping, looking forward to the next day.


Does my child see my admiration, have I shown her all my love

or remember my impatient outbursts, and forget the happy times?

The voices of the past telling me I am not good, am not smart,

they cloud my judgement and my dreams, no matter what I do they laugh and taunt me.

I am an outsider, the other moms stand away from me, as if they see my imperfections.

I try, perhaps not hard enough , to be their friend.


Yet alone I sit, at parties, recitals and games.

I think will my child do the same one day?

or will she be better than me in my emotionally stunted friendships.

Only here physically apart do I find friends, I wonder why.

Do I exude some physical sign of abnormality, not in my face but manner?


Like the caste less of ancient times

untouchable, odd ,unmistakably different.

Until I know for sure the cause and cure,

I still have cookies to bake, rooms to clean.

Life goes on, full of tastes, smells and endless chores to keep me busy

until the night when I wonder again, have I done enough?


Am I beautiful now? At least to those I love most.