We search for so much in our lives:
For love and for husbands and wives,
For meaning, compassion and hope,
Or someone with whom to elope.
We look for a room with a view,
For passions we want to pursue,
For diets that do not depress,
And jobs without worry or stress.
And often our mind will not rest,
For we can be truly distressed
If we cannot find what is lost—
A search for oneself can exhaust.
This happened to someone I know:
To Iceland, alone, did she go.
She walked off her bus dressed in black,
But wore something red coming back.
In red, no one knew who she was.
Apparently, it was because
In red, she looked young and so fair.
Besides, she had tied back her hair.
But where was the woman in black?
She left and she never came back.
They searched by the canyon and stream.
My friend, dressed in red, joined the team.
She crossed over glacier and ice
And covered some areas twice.
Exhausted, she came to a creek.
The water was clear—how unique!
Her face was reflected right there
And, suddenly, she was aware
The woman she thought might have drowned,
Was she—yes, herself—she was found!
Iceland Review: Lost Woman Looks for Herself in Iceland’s Highlands.
August, 27, 2012