So here I sit yet again. A familiar place, a comfortable place.
I’ve come to know it well over the years. A place of sweet solace. Gentle, yet prodding.
It beckons me, and I come willingly. Eagerly. Like coming home.
I feel welcome here, and whole. It is here I am able to capture the illusive fragments before they slip away .. like the dandelion’s tiny seed bearing parachutes dancing in the wind. Each is precious, each a treasure not to be lost.
It is here I gather my thoughts. It is here I slowly turn the pages of my memories and allow myself to taste the many flavors of the emotions attached to them. Most are sweet, and these I savor. Some are bitter, yet even these must tasted and the memory stored. Each flavor has meaning and significance, for how would I know to appreciate the sweet had I never tasted bitter?
The Reflecting Pool is within. I come here often. I am known here. I am welcome here.