#590 What the mirror knows

What the Mirror Knows

What the world doesn’t

Photo by Manuel Schinner on Unsplash

Everyone Congratulated her,
As she announced the arrival,
Of a new tiny addition to her family,
With little fingers and toes.

But what others don’t know,
The mirror of her dressing table knows,
The mirror which saw her beaming 
With love and smiling ear to ear.

It knows that her arm that holds,
A tiny baby which has fallen asleep, 
Could’ve held another lil bigger than
What she’s holding now.

The mirror saw her weaving dreams
Of motherhood for the first time,
When she stood before it 
And caressing her baby bump.

The mirror too witnessed that
Unfortunate day when she cried
In pain of labour which was 
Supposed to come many months later.

The mirror also saw her holding
A tiny baby, attached to her body,
But he was neither crying,
Nor making any movement.

The baby born was standstill,
In the apartment where she lived,
She was broken into thousand pieces
And the grief that came hitting by.

A few days later, mirror saw her again,
But pale and lifeless, empty hand and mind,
Often breaking down between tasks,
Or staring at herself through the reflection.

The mirror saw how a happy,
And a hopeful girl started doubting,
Every miracle coming her way,
Fearing it might be short-lived.

The mirror saw her slipping into
A state of life that was no longer exciting,
Hours turning to days and days to weeks,
Untill many months passed by.

But she wanted to live again,
To have control over her life,
The mirror saw her putting slow
But steady efforts for a comeback.

The mirror saw her smiling 
For the first time in months,
But with a fearful heart, finger crossed
About her destiny to unfold.

This time, mirror was not just an observer,
It tried to amplify her hopes,
As her fears should be diminished
She should learn to let go.

It wasn’t easy for her but
The mirror witnessed her healing,
Her journey of healing through words and
Making music her companion.

Before the world could see,
The mirror celebrated her joy
While grieving for the one who left,
And treasuring his memory in heart.

Image has been generated by the Author using AI tool ; GROK

This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon 2025 

© All Rights Reserved!
Swati Sarangi 
30.09.2025  
You can support my work through Buy me a Coffee.

P.S: It’s a poem dedicated to the grieving moms who lost their children. It’s an extremely difficult situation for any parent when they outlive their children, but destiny has plans that can’t be understood by many. It’s just how it is.