There
was that day when she stood
Waiting and welcoming
Waiting and welcoming
Glowing
radiantly in the rays of the midday sun.
Trees
stood in their full color guarding
The
pathway to her heart.
It
was as if she knew that the time as perfect.
She
was the treasure the pilgrims had sought.
Mature
but not tired,
Proud
but not overbearing.
A
flight of birds burst in formation
To
exploding out into all directions,
Mother
nature’s feathered fireworks
Days, became weeks, weeks months and months years.
The
birds and their songs never departed.
In
the dark soul of night she was honored by the sounds of
The
crickets’ celestial chorus accompanied by
The
sound of rustling leaves slowly
Shaken
by the breath of God.
Her
purpose was to be the perpetual peace-giver.
She
would be more than a sanctuary
Island
in the stream.
Gilbranesque
filled photo albums record remembering
Moveable feasts of joyful gatherings and celebrations:
Baptisms,
birthdays, Christmases and Easters
With friends and family!
With friends and family!
Canine
companions freely frolicked frequently with her.
In
times of grieving she was a source of
Mystical
silent prayers of solace
And
comfort for the tears.
Always
strong she stood her ground and sheltered her clan
From
the frozen winters, sweltering summers
And
the storms of all seasons and sources.
When
they were tired she provided a safe haven
From
the busy-ness and strain of the world.
All
souls felt safe with her and would dream in comfort.
She
was, no, she is sacred ground.
One
pilgrim would lovingly anoint her honoring her with flowers
While
the other would assure that music
Continuously
sanctified this temple.
Those
gathered with her flourished.
But
truth and complete love can be found in letting go.
The
pilgrims’ first then their second would say farewell
Launching
out on their own journeys to find out.
She
would always be there when and if they would feel
A
burning desire to feel that unconditional love again.
A
wise prophetess she seemed to know
Her
work here too would come to an end.
A
time would soon arrive when the original pilgrims
Would pass solemnly through
Her
door of salvation one final time.
There
will be no “goodbyes” just gratitude
Knowing
they could return to her in their hearts.
If
perchance you visit her lend an ear and listen carefully,
You
can hear the pilgrims’ spirits
Living within her forever.
amdg
