And here it is where we all came from so long ago. To where we have returned over and over. Always looking for what we have lost on our journeys away. Only to find that it was never lost, only forgotten. Only hidden in the midden of the unnecessaries that we gathered and then threw away.
'Tis good to be back. To remember that the breath of the divine blew in on these breezes. Words of wisdom were whispered in this wind.
The sea fed us, cleansed us, keened for our losses and soothed our our spirits in slumber. The sun smiled on our small ways, warmed our hearts and lit our days.
Enough, enough . . . Please God, may I remember this time; 'tis enough.
Thanks to The Mag.