Notice

a glimpse

a glimpse

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.

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.

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.

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One day she re-membered

that she was not of this earth.

That she had traveled here

long ago from someplace else.

 

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She had only seen a glimpse

but that was enough for her

to descend into an unknown place

where she would never be the same.

 

(We are the stuff that dreams are made on…)

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Since her first memory she had known

that she was just a visitor

yet somehow she had

pushed away this thought

into a dark place within herself.

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If only she could find

a trace of this knowing,

she could re-discover

that faraway place

from whence she came…

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But this earth where she lived...

was filled with walls...

with unanswered questions...

with sorrows beyond her reach...

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And so she lifted her hands to the sky

and longed for her return back home…

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As she whispered to the heavens,

"take me back!"

the sky began to shed large oval tears

creating a puddle in which

she suddenly noticed her reflection.

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"Who am I?" she asked the ghost

staring back at her.

When she received no reply,

she shook her head,

shrugged her shoulders and thought,

"It does not matter…"

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"It matters when you see

through your eyes not with them",

she heard a voice say

as her image dissolved.

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Again, she felt small

traces of herself awaken in the heavens.

And then, with a backward glance

she re-membered her

daily responsibilities.

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And with that

she thought and wondered,

"Who am I if I am not

my mother's daughter,

my sister's friend,

my cat's owner,

my beloved's companion?"

 

(I am possessed by the inhabitants and things

of this world for without them I am invisible…)

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And suddenly she realized

that she was no more

a mirror of herself

than she was of everything else.

 

"For each of us our circle of friends

is what we are ourselves"

                                            Goethe

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But her reflections de-sired

a movement away

from the stars

and toward the earth…

so she traveled like a leaf

tumbling down dimly lit

passageways sealed

with the demarcations of time.

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She landed softly 

within herself

as if on a cloud,

still spiraling

from her endless journey.

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Yet her feet touched the earth

and she felt hungry and tired,

ready for her supper

and a good night's rest.

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"The Soul that rises within us

our life's Star

Hath elsewhere its setting,

And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness..."

                                                                   Wordsworth

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THE END

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