Eternally, she stands. Her arms are spread, palms lifted upwards. A smile curves her lips as she lifts her face to the sun that shines down upon her. Her eyes are closed, long lashes resting on her cheeks. She looks content.
Frozen in time, an unseen wind lifts the edges of her long skirt, causing it to endlessly ripple behind her. Her shadow falls behind her, where she cannot see it. She looks peaceful.
Her face is unlined. Free from worry, from pain, from despair. The story upon her face is one of quiet joy and serenity. She looks satisfied.
I gaze greedily from across the way, drinking in what she offers. A vast distance lies between us, in more ways than one. I move slowly towards her. I am envious.
I kneel in the grass at her feet and gaze upon that which seems so far. The sun is shining, but my world is only colored in shades of grey. My shadow lies in front of me, and I do not feel the warmth from the light that she seems to revel in. I am in darkness.
I look upon her and wonder if I will ever feel that which she seems to be filled with. To be filled with faith, full of dreams yet fulfilled. It has been so long since I have felt the joy she surrounds herself with. I am weary.
Closer to her I creep, stretching out my hand to feel her strength beneath my hand. It is then I discover what was not so clear from so far. Tiny cracks run through her, and she is weathered by age. The tips of her fingers are worn from a near constant wind. She is beautifully flawed.
Hope blossoms in my chest. She and I are not that different. We are but steps away from each other. She has been where I stand now. She stands strong, defiant against that which has beaten against her. I revel in her strength.
My heart resolves as I stare into the face of which I will become. I will be at peace. I will be happy. I will be.