I marvel at the pioneer.
How the name gained meaning; how she began her journey.
Was it a choice? Was it only a matter of time?
A longing that needed to be filled?
Were plans in motion, or did her steps obey her heart?
What did she find?
The first sight
The first step
The flutter of butterflies as nature paused.
What did she feel?
The deep breath
The smile that broke the silence
For the time had come
How did it taste to become?
To embark and unearth?
To be utterly human?
What was it like to roam freely?
Like the birds that swim through the layers of light
Painting new life; chasing curiosity
What was it like to seek beauty more than self?
Like the untamed seas grasping for land
Fighting to be closer. Crashing just to feel
How did it feel to reach the end?
Like the clouds that rest upon the hills like blankets
Settling into bed. Reciting their days.
I wonder, did she still dream? Did she still search? Was the hunt still on?
Did passion still hold her? Did she still bear the heart of a child; one at play, seeking the ends of imagination, discovering the depths of the heart?
Or had she finally arrived?
Perhaps, just perhaps,
Her quest was complete
And to be lost
Was always found.