On Reflection

All: In the mirror there is a face,
Never dreamed of in youth.
An ordinary kind of face.

Call:
Who is this woman?

Response:
This is a woman with a too wide mouth
Which has bubbled over with unbidden mirth.

A mouth that has crooned love lullabies for tiny ears
And has tasted kisses hot as Vindaloo.

Has smiled false mask smiles to soothe and calm
A mouth that now talks to an empty chair.

A mouth that cries out against our cruel world,
A mouth that has stumbled with words unsaid.

All: In the mirror there is a face,
Never dreamed of in youth.
An ordinary kind of face.

Call:
Who is this woman?

Response:
This is a woman with strong holding arms
Who has swum naked and free in warm, faraway seas

Who has drowned in the pain of cold, cold loss
And crawled sometimes towards the edge of reason.

She has danced wild tango in her own sweet kitchen,
And merengued at dusk on a beach in Havana.

This is a woman who can shop ‘til she drops,
Whose wild heart flies at the first Spring Aconite.

All: In the mirror there is a face,
Never dreamed of in youth.
An ordinary kind of face.

Call:
Who is this woman?

Response:

This is a woman who knows how to turn darkness into light,
To dress a wound, remember birthdays, how to rage.

Who can make a meal from nothing, deliver a new lamb.
And milk a cow. Who can patch together and mend

Clothes and those she loves. Who can defy the damp
Through black wellies, and ease a child’s pain.

Who can drive a car and bargain, entertain and listen,
Knows how to cook and bestow sweet, kind confidence.

All:
In the mirror there is a face,
Never dreamed of in youth.
An ordinary kind of face.

Call:
Who is this woman?

Response:
This is a woman who jumps in, where Angels Fear to tread.
Who with one foot before another feels the rhythm of her life.

Who loves the feel of silken velvet and crystal against her skin
Rain on her face, grass underfoot and the perfect scent of a newborn.

Who cries at a flat Yorkshire pudding and the sadness of things long gone,
Who aches and breaks for her lost babes and for friends who have said goodbye.

This is a woman held safe by the iron chains of friendship,
A woman who longs for what she has, regrets much and nothing much.

All:
In the mirror there is a face,
Never dreamed of in youth.
An ordinary kind of face.

Call:
Who is this woman?

Response:
This is a woman who longs to turn the cruel clock back,
Who can worry for Wales and the rest of the world.

Who snuggles before firelight, loves a good read,
Cries at X Factor with a glass of a fine wine.

Who has a dresser full of china, who loves a tidy place,
Who has the scars to prove it, and a falling face.

Who knows to wear clean knickers, in case of accidents,
Whose small shoes are in the oven, keeping warm.

All:
This woman is a sister, an aunt, a daughter and a mother
A wife, wise witch, a healer, and a friend.

She’s a cook, a driver, a teacher, and a lover,
A Mamgu, a tender, a counsellor and a maid!

This woman is a singer, a dancer, a dreamer and a prophet,
A farmer, an artist, and a weaver of words.

Mae're menyw hon yn mwynhau dawnsio, canu gyda'r cor,
A cherdded ar hyd yr afon ar bore oer.

Single voice:
In the mirror there is a face,
Never dreamed of in youth.

All:
An ordinary kind of face.
An ordinary kind of face.

A face to be content in.