Last night my neighbor Joan came over, and we shared some wine and wonderful conversation. She spoke of her recent travel back east to Alabama with her 84 year old mother. They went to visit old friends and family, farms and land, and cemeteries holding ancestors from generations ago. They went to antique shops, and small restaurants in those rare places where everyone knows your name or makes it a point to learn.
I am reading and studying about quantum physics, strange matter, the fabric of space and time, and how our lives are held in the balance. Yet the true mystery and beauty of creation is within all that I just described, only here is where you will find what I mentioned above, blossoming in delicate balance.
The travelers flew far,
Touching the sunrise,
Flying across the land,
Reaching out to family,
Traveling to the east.
The travelers drove far,
From town to town,
Amidst the tall trees,
Meeting many people,
That were long unseen.
The travelers saw true,
Seeing from the heart,
Souls within the land,
Stories upon stories,
Of generations alive.
The travelers knew true,
Of true important things,
Afternoons on porch swings,
Neighbors you grow up with,
While never growing old.
The travelers embraced,
Loved ones from the past,
Souls amidst forever,
Those with us and beyond,
Memories which will last.
The travelers did taste,
Of meanings that hold true,
Times amidst the woods,
Families that bind forever,
For there is no old or new.
The travelers are one,
A mother and a daughter,
Walking the road of life,
Sharing and comparing,
All things real and true.
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