Trying to Find Me.

Maurtis Cornelis Escher, Hand with Reflecting Sphere 1935 Lithograph

I am the wings that keep the bird a-flight. 

My steady rhythm true, 

Allowing it to soar above the blistering rain. 

Bringing it safely home.

Where it will be free from all harm.

 

I am the erratic wind.

The breeze on your face. 

Blowing through your hair.

Free- spirited, gentle, and unpredictable.

Coming and going wherever, and whenever I please.

 

I am the forgiving eyes of a mother.

Her silent thoughts

Filled with love, worry, and joy for her child.

Her prayers selfless 

 Always intended for her daughter's future. 

 

I am the unspoken love of the anxious father,

Oppressive, harsh, yet caring

Locking his curiosity from the world

Burying his concern and sensitivity

In a black suit of pride

 

I am the gushing river of curiosity.

The continuous 

"What if?"

"Why not?"

"How come?"

Exploding out of an innocent child.

 

I am the whisper of hope to the deaf 

I am the morning light to the blind 

I am the mile the crippled run, 

On the harsh path of impossibility

To chase after their dreams. 

 

I am the invisible stranger 

Lost in the crowd of endless people 

Trying to find myself, 

my purpose. 

Trying to find 

Me.

I choose the Hand With Reflecting Sphere drawing by Maurtis Cornelis Escher to represent my poem because the man in this picture is looking at his reflection as if he is looking at a stranger. He is not admiring himself like many do when they gaze upon their reflection. His eyes are looking beyond his reflection, deep into his soul, trying to see his 'true' identity. The identity which is based on the good of a person, and not by their size, age, and attractiveness. Like me the man is trying to figure out his purpose, trying to figure out who he is. For people can be many different things. For example, I can be caring, calm, and I sometimes just want to be by myself. However, other times I can be loud, energetic and gregarious.  I attempted to express this in my poem by using many different images, such as: wings, the wind, and different examples of people. However, I could not summarize who I am in the end of the poem, for I myself am not sure. That is why I refer to myself as ' the invisible stranger', because many people think they know me: my friends, my family, and myself, but everyday I never fail to learn something new about myself. Making me indecisive of who I really am.