I Am Memory Colored



I look in the mirror and there in the foundation of my complexion is the blush of curiosity for adventures taken and yet to come.

Sadness and grief from loved ones lost has shaded the circles under my eyes.

The joy in living the present imbues the crinkles appearing more and more along my brow.

My shoulders and arms are freckled with friendships that brighten me.

The ruddiness of my hand skin is from years of holding, caring and supporting.

Fear and anxiety have tinted my hips with stretch marks from extra weight.

In my hazel eyes, I see deep into my essence, each turning point is a hue, each commemoration is a pigment, each ritual to support and sustain me is a dye that washes my soul.

I am Memory Colored.