My Poem

A Legacy

Legacy,

Such a provoking concept,

The long-lasting impact of a particular person.

What remarkable things someone must do to create a legacy, 

I’m sure I will do no such thing.

As I wander along the trails of a park,

I am rapt by a piercing silence.

Confined by nature, I contemplate.

Being on the brink of adulthood, there is plenty to contemplate. 

Today’s introspection is nothing new.

The self-doubt beating on my brain without mercy.

Like an intruder shattering a         fragile         window.

I feel like an imposter, 

An imposter in my own body and mind. 

It’s an ugly feeling, to say the least. 

I look to my right, startled to see a dragonfly hurtling through the sky.

Ironically, dragonflies are symbolic of new beginnings.

I laugh to myself, as I know today is no      such     thing.

But, it warms my heart just a little,

To think the universe might think so highly of me. 

I walk a little longer down an unpaved trail. 

I note the loose gravel, not wanting to trip and fall. 

Because if I fall, well, I might not get back up.

I am not usually like this.

But my brain enjoys the dramatics, cruel as it may be.

Note to self: Google “how to turn off brain.”

Google always has the answer. 

Anyway, I walk on and reach a simple pond. 

I am always fascinated with the life I know it holds,

Even if it appears a little barren. 

My eyes are drawn to the still water.

So unlike my raging thoughts.

I watch carefully, 

Scared that if I looked away, it would disappear.

I watch my own reflection on the glassy surface.

Lazily, I gaze into my own tired eyes.

I am not sure I recognize the girl staring back.

She’s different. So different.

Drawn towards this illusive woman.

I reach out to touch her face, wanting to know more.

Instead, I see a glimpse of a world,

A world where our souls were once intertwined.

She is me.

And I was her. 

I hear a voice in my head, it’s vaguely familiar.

Like an old friend who slowly became a stranger. 

She piques my attention with soft words,

She wants me to know something,

But it’s so hard      to        focus.

Those eyes,

They say eyes are the window to the soul.

Finally, I understand this analogy.

These two eyes in front of me have seen so much,

Known so much.

All I see is the emotion swirling inside her wide eyes,

They look swollen and discolored, a look I know all too well.

A silky scarf masks her hair,

Yet, I still spot the scarlet flyaways cascading on her forehead.

I wonder, why would anyone hide that hair from the world?

Across her neck I see a tarnished piece of jewlery.

Scrawled across the locket, in a faint trace,

“Catherine”.

This woman emits a golden aura,

It’s almost painful to stare at.

This brilliant glow circles around her head,

Almost as if it it were a halo.

She leans into me,

Daring to break the delicate water separating us.  

Her lips start to move,

I snap my attention to her strained words.

All I can make out is,

“Nothing great is ever achieved without much enduring.”

Simply put.

I move to speak, too many questions entering my mind.

So much I want, no need, to ask her.

But as I open my mouth,

She reaches a hand out and strokes the surface of the water.

The murky liquid starts to ripple,

as her image leaves my sights.

For once, my brain is quiet . . .