Lines on Her Face
I once knew a woman with lines on her face
Who’d lived most her life in a much different place
A place where those lines were respected, revered
Where it was known they held the wealth of her years
And here, in a place that was scared to grow old
She made us all realize the beauty age holds
For one day she stood and attracted a crowd
She started to speak as we all gathered round
And we hung on each word, we were all mesmerized
For her voice was so powerful, knowing and wise
She smoothed down the crown of her hair on her head
Then she lifted her chin and her voice as she said
“These lines are not something to hide or to fear
But something that says ‘I have lived, I was here’
They’re not to be counted like bars of a cage
But like rings of a tree that grows stronger with age
Grounded and large, persevering and proud
I’ve earned every stripe so I’ll wear them out loud
And though you might think I’d look better with none
Just wait til you learn how I earned every one
Because I’m much more than the way that I look
And these lines on my face are like lines from a book
That holds all the tales of the things gone before me
So come, take a seat and I’ll tell you my story”