Where has she gone? That young girl from so long ago.
The memory eludes me like a cloud covering over the sun.
She had dark hair and large hazel eyes.
Those eyes that saw the world as an adventure to be had.
A world that is exciting yet dangerously uncertain,
But — with courage — could be contained.
I’ve been reaching back into the secret corners of my mind,
looking for a glimpse of her again.
I’m groping as one walking in the night with only shadows as a guide.
Desperately I search for her,
dismantling obstacles that keep her memory from me.
I remember how she teetered between low self-esteem and arrogance
which usually landed with an outward projection of self-confidence,
masterfully hiding the inner turmoil.
Oh, but she was strong, determined, and quite resourceful
when it came to which face she allowed the world to see.
That face was poised and sure
but for the nearly unnoticeable glint of fear in her wide eyes
that seemed to whisper, “What if they really knew you?”
But only briefly could that whisper be heard
for she was a tower, tall and fortified that no one could penetrate.
She had goals and dreams that no one could take away —
that is, except her own self-doubt.
Is she still the same? I wonder.
Or did she capture the world and find
that it chipped away at her like rushing water over the rocks,
smoothing away the rough surface, revealing what is beneath?
Has she learned that her weakness is actually her strength?
Is she still a tower, tall and strong?
Has she learned to lower the guard and let love in?
“Does she still exist?” I ask myself as I ponder,
looking into the mirror through hazel eyes
for any resemblance of her.
“Yes — she does.”