The Mirror

Today I am looking at myself. I am staring at my legs. They are tired. They are weak. Well, weaker than they were before. Before when I ran, and jumped, flew, and fell, and made my way precisely and quickly through wood and concrete, step by step, strides and bounds, chasing an invisible finish line just in sight, just out of reach. Before my legs could carry my body, could propel it towards sky or earth, in any direction working as a team with my arms which could push or pull my frame over and through the ledges and rails that populate my path. But today they are weak as well. I look at my hands, they struggle to grip the utensils of life laid out before me, cup, phone, pen, spoon each present a new challenge to overcome with my tender digits and palms. They are torn and calloused, and the callouses are torn and calloused over. The nails are cracked. There are various pieces missing from various parts of various areas of my body. There is less of me today than there was before. Somewhere along my forgotten route there is my skin, and my blood, and my energy, and my fears, and my ideas, and my past, and I will not get them back. They will stay there and I will continue moving forward. Today I will grow new skin, I will heal and replenish my body, I will find new things to fear and to try and understand. Today is a new day, and I am tired and weak, but I can see that I am already starting to feel stronger. Today is only beginning and I will shake the slumber from my legs and arms and I will find a new finish line, because someday today will be before just as before was once today. Everyday a new finish line, everyday a new before, everyday a new today. Today I know myself a little better than I did before. I can only imagine what today will bring.