A Place to Go

The aches of living day by day wear on us;

But not so fast - more like sandpaper on old wood.

We need something besides earning a living;

Perhaps just a sunny day or the taste of sweet water.

We are not always admitted to others' special places,

So we wander around and look for our own.

I find the places of the heart are all over;

Between the pages of unread books or in a dusty attic.

There are places we go in our thoughts and real life;

On the edge of a lake, a high spot on a mountain,

Maybe amongst the trees or in a canyon of colors,

Or a strong wind on an ocean beach.

We find ourselves there at odd times;

Sometimes alone or with friends or family.

It's a wishing place and a hopeful time;

One heals there, kneels there, and waits there.

There is no particular hurry and the air feels good;

Like a first kiss or the joy of running for the fun of it.

We hold things there like stones, or grass or memories;

We run to these places for refuge and a touch of something.

God seems more real and the earth more constant.

We smile, cry, but in a different way, almost shy;

We think of other places but in a better frame of mind;

We just feel special as we skip a stone across something.

We tell ourselves that all is well or getting better,

Even if it is not true we choose to believe it,

The tears are there - drops of pearls and sunshine,

All hooked to a rainbow that came for the day.

Digby