I wrote this poem as I was sitting at my favorite lake. The reflections in the water reminded me of how our ideas of ourselves are mostly made up of other people’s thoughts about us. Sometimes the ideas they have of us are so far off from who we really are that we lose ourselves in other people’s reflections. For better or worse these are what make up our sense of self and end up being our memories. It takes a lot of self-compassion and commitment to find out who we really are. When I sit in nature and words with emotion come to me, I feel a little bit closer to who I really am.

I thought I saw a child in a reflection on the lake.
A distorted image of myself passed down from long gone days.
The crystal water spinning stories a million different ways.
Those long forgotten truths, replaced by made up memories.
Reflected in the water, grown, fabled and believed.
Those ripples stretched the truth so far, It was impossible to see.
The things I thought were true were nothing more than dreams.
Now I keep on going back there to see if things have changed, the things I held up as my life, a reflection on the lake.
And even though they’re only dreams, they helped me to survive.
So I’ll just keep believing them for as long as I’m alive.

Published by Joyce E Brand

Writing for me is very cathartic and meditative. I have found it to be an outlet for inner conflict, doubt, worry, joy, love, peace, and the entire range of human emotion.

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