If Love Is A Place

When someone allows you to see yourself and your world in a way that you could not see alone, it cannot be forgotten. It’s all about finding that light, and because of it, you discover both the strength and weakness within you. The light touches and warms your words.  It sings you to sleep.  It wakes you up in the morning.  That excitement in your chest.  The way the world shifts and glows and breathes poetry.  Another day to live and love.  We build another world for a moment and some days we try to find the way back.


I dream of walking through a field of grass and wild flowers barefoot, unafraid, and not alone.  I want to be with someone I’ve loved and trusted.  We’d explore together.  With very few clouds in the sky, we’d feel so small.  No buildings or houses in the way.  Just sun and grass and sky.  Nowhere to hide. No need to hide.

We wouldn’t be lost.  Somehow we’d know exactly where we were as if we had lived here all of our lives.  We wouldn’t move a thing or pick any flowers.  Even the fully blossomed ones, the wine-colored ones, the ones to help us remember.

We’d leave complication to our surroundings: the delightfully intricate parts of the flower and the complexity of ethereal scents.  Instead, we’d enjoy the simplicity of experience.

When we’d return someday, the field would be different.  We would be different.  We wouldn’t miss the old flowers or ask why beautiful things change and wither away.  Smiling about the time we first arrived, we’d begin to explore again as if we knew nothing before about this place. As if we knew nothing about ourselves.

Originally written: January 2006

3 responses to “If Love Is A Place”

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