Meeting Myself

Meeting Myself

 
Sharp footsteps fall.
An empty room waits
I am alone.
Expecting no one
In this darkened place.

   “Hello,”
I hear a voice say.
“Who are you?”
I ask, perplexed.
My silence shattered.
   “I am what you made me.”
The voice answers.
Revealing a young girl
“What I made you?”
I can not see her.
Only hear
She sounds fragile,
Insecure.
Did I make that?
   “I am who you make me.”
Another voice.
Older.
“Who I make you?”
I question again.
How did I create her?
I can not see her.
Only hear.
She is more assured.
More confident
But still full of youth

How can I face them?
Knowing I may fail.

   “I am how you will make me.”
A third voice speaks.
Old, and warm.
I can not see her.
Only hear.
She seems wise.
More than I thought possible.

I am silenced by all this.
          What is she?
         Who is she?
How will she be?

   “You fear too much.”
The child says.
   “We are the parts.”
The young woman says.
   “You are the whole.”
Finishes the old woman.
“How did you know?”
I hear my voice crack.
   “Silence speaks loudly.”
They respond.

My mind questions again.
Where do I end?

   “And we begin?”
The child asks, finishing my thoughts.
   “You don’t.”
Says the young woman
   “There are no such distinctions.”
Follows the old woman.
   “We are you.”
They chime in unison.
“I am me!”
I retort.
“You can not be me, if I am me.”

A light falls from above.
Illuminating the darkness
I find myself alone.
Staring at my reflection
In a mirror, I see them speak again.
   “Past.”
The face of my childhood
   “Present.”
The ideal of me now
   “Future.”
The vision of what will come.
   “We are one in the same.”
Their voices harmonious in their unity
“Then I am never alone.”
I finish, walking away.