Memories once so fair now lack any hope of redemption and the desire for change is surrendered. As she lifts her hand in accusation, the dust of Fae twirling once more on broken sunbeams, there is acknowledgment in the shadow cast the one finger points backward, aiming at her own soul.
Discoveries cannot be ignored by the rational, evolved heart, just as challenges to the Self cannot stand ignored. She nods in gratitude and lowers her arm; the shadow recedes, the light prevails. The cloudiness and futility of maudlin retrospection grows less distinct as her inward-looking reflection gazes back, and overcomes the limitations in triumph.
© Regina J McMurray 2016