When I was young,

the thought of wrinkles on my face terrified me.

No one told me when I get older,

I would only see the wrinkles on my face with magnifying glasses.

No one told me of this perfection of aging.

When I was young,

how I was troubled with the dust around the house.

No one told me when I get older,

I would only see the dust around the house with magnifying glasses.

When I was young,

how I flaunted for perfection.

 No one told me when I get older,

the only perfection is in that moment,

when I look at a flower in bloom,

when I hear the call of an owl,

when I let the waves carry me on my board.

And when in that perfect moment,

In that beautiful spot on the lake,

I scattered my mother’s ash,

oh would I see a fish nibble on her ash,

that was her wish,

oh this perfection of aging.

Mehrnaz Massoudi