To Have Seen Her

You should have seen her—
Oh, if only you had.
The reckless abandon, the freedom
The way she glided, filling the space so effortlessly.
Her presence—so whole, so unapologetically alive.
You should have seen her.

I remember the first time I saw her so clearly
I sat transfixed, unmoved, as if time itself had stood still
The Universe frozen in a moment, but only she moved.

Her face gently covered in a smile
Not just a curve of lips, but a lightness within,
An unspoken assurance, that in a chaotic world, peace can still exist.

But to have seen her—

The way she moved, the way she connected—
Effortless, magnetic,
As if the universe had tailored her threads of existence
To weave harmony wherever she walked.
She reeled me in, like only she could.
Joy, smiles, laughter—
And that quiet stirring,
That something ancient and untamed
Awakening from deep within.

How can it be,
In a life so tangled with confusion and contradiction,
That she makes it all look so easy and wonderfully effortless?
Her simplicity is an art,
A mirror of the things I long to believe—
That grace isn’t learned, but lived.

Because I see her.

And I want to see me.
But I cannot.
So I stare into the vastness of space,
Praying for what she has—
That wholeness, that clarity, that self belief
But just as I reach, I feel it slips from my grasp,
A dream I chase in a half-light, fruitless, unworthy

But how She moves, and she dances,
The air around her breathing with her rhythm,
Her mind unburdened, her steps unwavering,
Each moment claiming its place in space and time and without hesitation or apology.

To really look though is to see her

When my mind is quiet, I hear her laugh—
A sound that carries.
a melody, a siren call as It floats along the breeze,
Each note a spark, igniting the shadows.
And with it comes happiness.
It is infectious,
Not a fleeting joy, but a steady hum—
A reminder of what peace can be.
I only wish I could be the way she is:
Untethered, yet deeply rooted.

Because, oh—if only you could see her.

You really need to see her, just catch a glimpse.

And there have and will continue to be times
When darkness engulfs me,
When I am swept away,
Carried, violently pushed, and pulled—
A ship in a storm of my own mind,
Lost in the howl of my demons.

But even then, I can still see her.
A lighthouse on the edge of my chaos,
Her glow cutting through the fog.
And I know I will be okay.

And then I wonder—
For those who have seen her,
How it differs from me.
Do they glimpse the same radiance?
Do they feel the same pull?
Because I know they will feel the love,
The joy, the beauty, and the comfort of seeing her.

But it is not the same.
For me, it’s more, it’s the ache of knowing
She is both the freedom I long for and the peace I fear I may never find.

Jeez, I wish you’d seen her. You must have missed it.
Because if you had, you would have known.
The mark she leaves—
In the deepest recesses of your soul—
It stays. It lingers. It transforms, it blooms and grows and one day you will see her,
And you will understand.

“You were right. To have seen her is to have known.
I get it—I see her now, and I now know exactly what you mean.”

But as I stand here, Alone in the vast emptiness of my thoughts, the silence absolutely deafeaning.

I can only hope and pray
That she sees herself
The way that we all see her