Be Like Me
M.S. Dragoncub

Light poured over the horizon, calling a new day.
It was then this little girl came bounding out to play.

In her mind, she danced on the stars, but in her skin she felt trapped,
…like a bug in a jar.

So one spring morning she raised her face to the Sun.
“Who am I really? What will I become?"

"Be like me," cheered the sun.
So she tried.

She curled in a ball and hoped to shine.
Then she felt foolish and wanted to hide.
“Dear Sun, your light is so much brighter than mine.”

And the rock where she sat was warmer because she had been there.

Life was confusing. Her thoughts began to stray. Perhaps the Mountain had something to say? So one summer day she climbed the peak from below.
“Why am I here? When will I know?”

“Be like me,” the Mountain rumbled.
So she tried.

She flopped to the ground and slumped in a mound.
But in a short time she wriggled around.
“Dear Mountain, no matter what I do,
I haven’t the patience to be still like you.

And a tiny ant grew sleepy climbing over her colossal feet.

Her questions were many. Her serenity was thin.
So one autumn evening, she cried to the Wind,
“Where am I going? I don’t know how to begin.”

“Be like me,“ the Wind bellowed.
So she tried.

She spun and she leapt, trying to take flight.
Then she grew tired and gave up the fight.
“Dear Wind, I haven’t the strength to fly through the night.”

And the leaves by her feet shuffled in her wake.

Discovering her purpose was certainly a chore.
So one winter night, she sang by the shore,
“I want to be bigger. I need to be more!”

“Be like me,” the Ocean roared.
So she tried.

She tried to be massive, powerful and blue.
But covering the Earth was more than she could do.
“Dear Ocean, I haven’t the greatness to be like you.”

And a salty tear rolled from her eye.

Held against such brilliance, she felt useless and small.
She doubted if, comparatively, she could be anything at all.

Her wanderings drew her gently to the side of the River.
“I’m lost,” she said and waited for the wisdom it could give her.

The River answered, “Look into my depths and answers you will see.
There beneath the surface is everything you need.”

She looked upon the River, but the only image she could trace
was a slightly shaky outline revealing her own face.

“Dear River, your waters are too shiny. There’s nothing here to see.
When I look at you from overhead, all I see is me.”

“Be like me,” her reflection whispered back at her.
And suddenly, she was free.