There once was a girl on a journey
to make of her life what she could.
She took the turns as she found them
and always strived to do good.
The road would sometimes be narrow
winding both this way and that.
At times she was broken and crying
sometimes in wonder she sat.
Photo: Mercedeh Mirshamsi
In details she occasionally lost her way
forgetting to look around.
But the path was long, each step was new,
she danced to her heart’s beating sound.
In a world that is constantly changing
on days she felt quite distraught.
Then once again she’d smile and move on,
winds sweeping away sad thoughts.
She stopped at the edge of an abyss one day
intriguing she found the deep.
Sun’s rays reflecting lakes far below
the beauty made her weep.
She walked and walked as life passed by
tried to listen to voices within.
Amazed at the wonder of living,
of sunshine caressing her skin.
The journey appeared to be aimless
life set no goal for her.
One step at a time she shaped herself
her choice which path to prefer.
How do you envision the girl I portray?
Is she walking in moon light or during the day?
I’m asking not knowing what you would see.
In my mind’s eye, the girl is me.
As older she got she could sometimes just stand
in memories of the past.
Lost deep in herself, living far away
no need to move so fast.
That first man who joined her travels,
back in the dawn of time.
His face was blurred and fading,
but the memories still made her feel fine.
To bury herself in memories
was not what she intended to do.
She saw them as travel companions.
Perhaps we should do too?
Under shadows cast by mighty trees,
her path still led her on.
The forest’s floor not always safe
at times she had to be strong.
Over mountains and through deep valleys,
through deserts and meadows of gold.
Our girl had walked many thousand miles
and was starting to feel old.
Her limbs no longer as limber
her eyes no longer as clear.
She could no longer walk as fast
no longer of pit-falls steer clear.
But that is one of the treats of a life
we don’t always know what will come.
A woman who walks in the darkness
may one day step into the sun.
Of guides and helping hands there were
many by the side of her roads.
Some frogs she kissed turned into men
and some just remained toads.
A memory becomes selective
after years and years on the go.
But does it really matter today
who was once a friend or a foe.
Along the ocean’s lapping waves
in the warmth of afternoon sand
her bare feet massaged by millions of grains
she danced with her heart in her hand.
Photo: CC Champagne
The colours most amazing as
she gazed on the setting sun.
But the journey is far from over
still her choice to walk or run.
Wherever her choices lead her
she continues to stumble along.
She walks, she crawls, she sometimes sits
just listening to life’s song.
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A Glass of Bubbly 