WHEN THE GIRL BEGAN HER JOURNEY, she had wide eyes

wild eyes

wondrous eyes

willful eyes

eyes filled with recognition and hope and inspiration.

she was young, and she was filled to the brim

with the glittering materials

of

her dreams.

every night she dreamed.

every day she dreamed.

she dreamed until she didn't know

night from day

day from night,

reality

from

dreams.

but it was okay.

she had her entire life ahead of her and was ready to take it

head-on

full-strength

full-will

full-force.

she was ready from her dreams

to no longer be

just dreams.

her most powerful tool was her mind.

her mind and her pencil.

and so, every day

she wrote

long

short

and everything in-between.

illuminating those thoughts that never got to see the light of day

or

the dark of night.

she wrote more

she dreamed more

and somewhere along the lines

the two become

one

a singular force.

a singular driving force behind

her actions

her thoughts

her existence

her life.

and then,

one day

she grew

courageous.

and her writing was

no longer

her own.

and her one story was

no longer

one.

and the number of those who read it was

no longer

one.

and now

in this new multitude of multitudes

in this new beginning

 she was happy.

uncertain of where she'd go

or what she'd do

or where her writing would go

or what her writing would do.

but she

was

happy.