Reflection: A Poem

I’m wandering through the woods in Spring, 

Not in a hurry, not aiming at a destination.

Just wandering and wondering.

I allow my eyes to be open, 

Free to see the world around me in all its realness.

Some bushes are still cold and brown, 

Waiting for the sun’s magical warmth to breathe life in its stems and branches and leaves once again.

Some new plants are poking and pushing their way out of the ground, 

Bursting with the excitement of this adventure called “Life.”

And there are trees and seasoned flora who grow strong in these early spring days.

They have known winter.

They have felt bitter cold.

They are at peace, knowing the comfort of summer is near.

I pause at a slow, shallow part of a stream.

Like me, this place feels content to be still.

I sit on a smooth rock and dip my toes in the water.

I lean over to find my reflection.

There are pieces of me I don’t recognize. 

It’s been a long winter.

But through the faint ripples of the stream, 

I see my eyes.

They are tired and understanding and hopeful.

They are me. 

And in this space, I have permission to just be.

By Christina Meline (2024)