Seeing the Light (a poem)

1. the lens

Click.

The memory snapped in a picture frame.
A girl smiles back at me from the album page, 
Dark hair in pigtails and bright eyes sparkling back.
Rubbing the plastic, I remember the past.

What did she think about? What was her deepest fear?
What dreams did she imagine for the time that is now here?
Her gaze is radiant, her face lit with a grin.
Sometimes I wonder where she’s gone and if I’ll find her again.

Laying down the picture book, I step across the room.

2. the mirror

Blink.

So soon, it seems, those same eyes stare back at me.
Familiar as they’ve always been, still they hold such mystery.
I’ve seen unfolding depths of soul that I had never known.
Dare I look into the hidden rooms and find what they might show?

Try as I might, there’s no way to hide.
Her eyes are glowing embers lit by the fire inside.
How long has it been there? Who has called it out?
Dare I ignore the voice that says the time to rise is now?

Turning from the looking glass, I close my eyes and wait.

3. the window

Hush.

A woman stands before me, bright and beaming, bold and brave.
Her shoulders back, her focus set, hope shining in her gaze.
She glances back at me with eyes older than mine,
Her face grace-lined and gentle, her smile kind and wise.

Deep inside, I wonder: is this real or just a dream?
Is it possible that one day it could be true as it seems?
This is the woman that I long to be—
A vision that one day may turn to reality.

Feeling the sun seep through the window pane, I let the warmth sink in.

4. the Light

He’s been there all along:
In the flash of the camera that captured the girl,
Smiling and confident of her place in the world;
In the lamp in the corner illuminating the teen,
Thoughtful and quiet, pondering things unseen;
In the rays through the window lighting the way
To the One who waits on the other side of saying “yes” to faith.

Looking through the glass, I see the light.