this must be the place
I didn’t recognize it at first, having never been here myself.
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I didn’t recognize it at first, having never been here myself. Realization let me in. A tentative first step meets wonder, Where am I? Who belongs here? Familiarity burns my nostrils with each inhale, yet Certainty grips me tighter still. I must not know this place. A blink to clear the haze begets a quiet question, Could I belong here? Something deep echoes the query, but Certainty says no. A glance reveals all of my favorite things. Golden light flows in, seeming to brighten with my notice. Plants breathe, exhaling the sweetness of life, welcoming me with their kiss. Color dances playfully across walls, floors, and furniture. Dogs jump at my feet, an ambush of smiles and fluff, as soft music from a distant corner gently wipes away thought and worry. The sunflowers turn to greet me. It’s everything, and yet, what’s missing? I look back and see Fear on the doorstep beckoning me back. It doesn’t belong here. Certainty reminds me that neither do I. There is only Love here, and she envelops me tenderly. As unsure as I am if we’re ready. Home, she whispers. Certainty snickers. We don’t have a home. But— A protest and a wish tangling on my tongue. But, But.
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The music sweeps past me, then. It tugs my gaze forward toward a small girl, I hadn’t noticed, sitting in the corner of this delicate place. Entirely to herself, she sings. Aligning stuffed companions before her, until they are arranged, just so. As I see them, I hear them, too. Little voices gently harmonizing. Curiosity wakes with sudden interest. Though the creatures before her are worn and frail, loose buttons for eyes. Areas of worn-away fur. Limbs fragile, details faded. As alive as her or me. The pull of her magic carries me closer. She does not turn to see who approaches. She and her stuffed ensemble, sing on. Love stills as if to hear for herself, the something deep within hums along, too. Bewildered, I wait, and Certainty falters. Its allegiance shifts, as my lips twitch half-formed words. Long ago, I forgot the song. But I never, forgot the words. She isn’t alone; I’m here now. And as I join her now, in sitting and in song, she rests her small head on my shoulder. The animals move closer in greeting. Old friend, how we’ve missed you. And I, you. The plants, the dogs, the walls, the light, the air, the love hear our chorus reach its peak. Loneliness leaches from each rising note. We even let Fear in then. Taking its hand, recognizing its oneness, with us and all things. The song closes. The girl looks up at me, finally. She’s beaming, and I see. How her love willed these animals into being. If only to lend her company while she waited, for me. I’m sorry I forgot you. Her soft kiss lands on my tear-stained cheek, anyway. This must be the place, our place.
-June
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