Aperture

There was a lot she left behind when she stepped off the plane.

More than just America, or work, or normalcy. She left behind the past, the chains that had tried to hold her down.

She stepped off the plane, met by heat, met by a home she had forgotten.

And as she stepped into the land she had long been waiting to return to, she knew in that moment that she was home.

A lens opened to accept the light of the world.

A heart opened to accept the light of the world.

And she knew again, she was home.

Home amidst the hearts of those she had loved before and had continued to love, despite the miles.

So she set to the work before her.

Capture the light. The light of the sun. The light in their eyes.

The light she didn't expect to find, though, was that which was reflected in the eyes of those she saw.

For in their eyes, her own light was reflected. The light she often ignored or forgot.

She sought the light in the eyes of others.

And discovered that the same light lived in her.