Sunday, September 6, 2015
I know why the landscape of Colorado awakens my senses to the feeling of arriving home. It's the scale of the mountains cloaked in green, hugging the valleys and roads at every corner. It's the density of the pines and firs, rich in emerald, populating the curves and jagged cliffs of mountain sides. It's the embrace of it all, welcoming you in and asking you to rest. It's the creeks and riverbeds and springs supplying refreshment and abundance. It's the wildflowers greeting you as with the smile of children, the deepest hues of joy and innocence. It's the subtle blue mountain peaks, hazy and endless, scattered across the distance, reminding you that this beauty does not cease, it goes on and on. It's the open, velvet meadows that seems to shout, "Run to me! Run through me!" All of these, the curve of my body seems undeniably fashioned to be held by. My senses, alert and synchronized to the rhythm of this landscape. To not only be invited and welcome by this verdant place, but also accepted in my truest self. There are no masks here, only the swelling of an honest heart. To be naked in all respects and to know nothing but affection, favor, and rest. I think, the first man and woman once felt this. And that is the great return, the destination I have sought since I entered this frail and familiar earth. A return to a place, a people, a family, a Father that I have never once experienced with my human senses but will have known and memorized this entire lifetime. Even now, I am aware of their presence and also ache in longing for them.
Soon, my child, soon.