The Skipping Stone Pond

When I feel lost

I still go back

To the skipping stone pond

Where the kissing swans

Once found skies

And I stare a reflection

That I don’t recognize

Because how can I still be

That child

After so many years

That I have wandered

How is it that the water

Is not murky

Distorted and polluted

By mistakes and regret

I toss a stone

And the ripples spread

Silent and efficient


And I feel it thrum in my bones

It feels just right

And lonely

A weight sinking and settling

In the muck

Sometimes I feel so lost and wish so badly that I could go back to before everything went wrong. To go back to when I was little and everything was simple and all my dreams were possible. To go back to a time where I couldn’t imagine anything bad ever happening. When pain and loss and regret hadn’t yet touched me. When everything was new and wonderful. Full of discovery and adventure and first times. That time when I hadn’t yet messed anything up.

And so in my thoughts, I return there. And I stare into the pond and see the reflection of a little girl, and I know she is still in there. I know that I am that child underneath and that has not changed. I am still that same person even though I’ve made mistakes. It’s about wiping the slate clean and moving on. Casting a ripple, but letting the stone sink. It distorts the reflection for a moment, but then sinks down deep and everything returns to how it once was. It becomes part of the pond, but does not change its essence.