7.8
September 29, 2021

She Feels Like Home.

When I step outside, I breathe her air.

And something deep within me softens.

And smiles.

I feel her.

And I think she feels me too, knows me too.

She is the one unwavering constant who helps me to be present.

To settle.

To soothe.

To breathe.

To be.

When I move outside, amongst her world, I am with her.

I feel her winds blow on my fingers.

I gaze out on her landscape.

I hear the lively sounds of the world that calls her home, the birds who chirp and the rivers that flow.

I marvel at the shifting, changing colors of leaves in the fall.

The vibrant blues and greens of summer.

The array of dazzling colors in spring.

The white of winter.

And the hazy, fuzzy grey of rain-filled days.

No matter the weather, I know she will always be there

For me.

And I will always go to her.

Because I love her.

She is a part of me,

Or I of her.

She feels like home.

A sturdy, stable, flowing presence.

Ever-present.

Strong, yet supple.

Tender, yet resilient.

Holding me in her warm, vast, grasp-less grasp.

I close my eyes to move into her embrace,

To feel her more deeply,

To linger in her essence.

To be there

With her

Fully present.

I feel so present in her presence.

She reminds me to soften.

To pause.

To breathe.

To be.

I love how I feel

When I’m with her.

She feels like home.

~

 

 

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