Show Me Letter

So the question was asked: who am I now? The drums pounded louder, pulsing beneath my chest demanding an answer. Memory of my yesterdays replaced by dream and hope: who am I now? Our quest pursued only by the question’s desperation: who are we now? The three lead by the dim light, The light, the light we would be nothing without.
We followed a path seeming only visible to the traveler. Our feet still had some spring in them, but an unidentified knowledge within told us that it wouldn’t always be that way. But that was fine, as long as we got the answer, for when we had the answer it would make sense. This would make sense. And anything, everything, was worth this precious, phantom truth.
As we walked along the path today, we noticed things; things that were meant to be right but were wrong, things that were purposed with beauty but withheld and disfigured. Words simply spoken became woven into intricate riddle and hung like spider webs attempting to negate us from our path. Things that once stood tall and proud slithered between our feet while songs echoed into coarse growls. And just the same, things that were meant to be wrong were right. The world looked differently now because we had changed. But who had we become? Was the dream last night real? Did I change something in me at the fire? While facing the phantoms of my past?
All through the day's light we saw new marvels and horrors, as the path under our feet only appeared when we were willing to move forward. And though we were led by hope, discouragement rose like the coming night, as our answer had still not come. Us three still unexplained in the chaos of this “new world.”
Suddenly the night swallowed the sun without allowing its glorious final bow. It was as if someone had blown out the only candle in a room, allowing darkness to dominate its newly claimed victim, only we didn’t feel defeated. An enveloping stillness swept rippling through the trees and grass like wind and blew over us like a soft, refreshing wave. Again, something good in this world that was meant to be wrong greeted us with a kiss. And this newness was old friends with the dim light, for they danced around us like a sparkling spectacle, ridding the doubt and discouragement that had attached to us like cobwebs. Then the two friends collided and became one, even though they had always been one, and they led us to a lake as smooth as glass. We saw -though our path had stopped, but because we were still willing regardless of that it looked like-it appeared before us on the water. With each step on our liquid path, (for we were stepping out on the lake now) the stars shone brighter in the sky and reflected more so on the water. There was no flinching to hold onto one another in fear of falling through, for we had let go of our prior rules of right and wrong and allowed ourselves to be retaught by our guide of light, whom we willfully followed.
When we arrived at a point on the lake where all we could see was sky and water, the light shot up into the sky and became the stars. As we stood, each of us noticed a star brighter than all the others reflecting on the water that neither of the others could see, and we drew closer to them. When I reached mine, I bent down and scooped it out of the water. It was beautiful; a warm, golden light that hummed with music never before heard, and I knew what it was. It was me. Apart from this world, peeling away flesh and bone, this was me. The true-meant to be- me, wasn’t transformed by the switch of the old world. And I was meant to find and become it. Whatever it took, I knew that all I wanted to be was who I was meant to be.
And then it whispered my name.
Not the name I was given at birth, not the name that the world knew me by, but my name. The name I was given before I even was; the whom I was created to be and live by.
I looked back at my companions and they had the same light in their eyes that they knew, too. There was nothing spoken, for nothing needed said, only the silent agreement that we would continue forward with the destiny of becoming us; the real us. We were bonded by the truth, despite the muddled reality this place had to offer, to pierce through on the narrow to the place where we would become in all things whole.
The dim light floated back down to us with a hidden smile we all returned, and thus we continued with an unshakable hope, the drums within our chest now beating with a veracity of purpose like never before. For though we are not yet, we will be, for we have always been.

Yours Yet,
Becoming