Teenage Realizations

Teenage Realizations

I have come to the time in my life when it is necessary for

me to leave Mother’s Arms and seek myself in the vast mirror of Life-

Who am I? What do I want? Who wants Me?

From Mother’s shelter I’ve been weaning

On my own I search for Life’s meaning.

I trip alone naively, merrily and soon find a boy with red cheeks.

Yearning arms reached out to me and willingly I rushed into an Embrace.

Suddenly my cherub turned into a ferocious bull who snorted, and kicked and riled me to the point of hysteria—then again a dimpled cherub—now a raging bear

slinging me into the dirt of despair.

I cried until the rivers of the world were rushing with hot tears

of regret. Slowly limping to Mother, I flung myself into the familiar arms only to be rejected and turned out into the world of Seventeen.

To whom shall I turn? Don’t …only another brutal fall!

To no one I reach, I beckon, I call . . .

Numbness came over me- fog is misting…lighting flashes

Delirium and fever cloud my mind.

I’m in a summerhouse of mirror—I saw a kindly face,

smiling and reaching out to me, obnoxiously, in my mind.

I turned and again and again I ran into the hazy

face of calm understanding. I turned and ran and again I

was face-to-face with my image.

Only this time it was my cherub—how happy I was!

I reach out to touch and hit my hand on a mirror.

A crash of glass awakened me to a fact…

I’m deep in the forest alone; the summerhouse is gone. I walked with a downcast head and a leather shoe came into my

view, then a leg, then a hand and

I stared into the truest eyes I had ever beheld.

Warm fingers grasped mine, fright encircled my mind.

I pulled away only to feel the grip tighten and barely

whispered through my mind…

I felt myself relenting—gratefulness engulfed me: relief is

as sharp as pain.

He was guiding me away from my grievous past—the forest was behind us. There was a sunny velvety green road stretching ahead of us. Honeysuckle was euphoric on this road which we travel. May it

never, ever turn to gravel.

Who was the lost child under the understanding and care of the steady hand-- He called her “princess”.

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