Gently Down the Stream

Sometimes,

 the very best thing to do

 is take the road all the way to the river.

Especially in the heat of a fig ripening summer's day;

just before that unmistakable turn in the season when the sun's warmth no longer reaches in to the shadows & the water becomes chilly instead of soothing...  

A picnic on the river bank with the one you love the most in all the world...

just under the hill called "Sacred",

in the light that makes the world seem like a place of wonder & magic,

and time pauses, breath deepens...
sigh...
 as all the hustle & anxiety is quieted,
wrinkle smoothed & stroked

...flowing,

floating away in the tranquility

of willow green,

& poplar tall.

The fine shingle & sandy river bottom kind to tender feet

& the water shallow & so gentle you could walk all the way up stream to the bridge, if the fancy took you.

Time dissolves as the sun flirts with the close of day.

These are the moments that we cherish..

for they are but moments..

shiny memories of one summer when life was hard,
 but our hearts returned home, over & over

& our hands kept reaching out to each other in friendship...

& we chose to believe that there would come better days

of hope & grace.

Hope: fragile, intangible.
As soft as breath,

yet as indelible as sunshine yellow..
dandelions,

 become a jar of gathered wishes & prayers.

Home, full.
Hearts warm & tender.
Believing...

to see goodness...

in our land & our days.
♥♥♥♥♥