The Place.

Every day, and every night, I dream of this place.

I am the place and the place is me.

A place where we can all be together.

I am the place and the place is me.

A place with a table, around which we eat bread. Broken and shared, like our lives, in Him.

I am the place and the place is me.

I dream of helping others to lay down burdens and sorrows, of raising the dead, lifting holy hands, surrendering all that holds us to the earth, or binds us to our shame.

I am the place and the place is me.

I imagine a place where we speak “namaste” – the spirit in me sees the spirit in you – and we see, and are seen.

I am the place and the place is me.

I see a garden, an orchard, chickens and cows. Vegetables for our bodies. Fruit for our smiles. Eggs for new life. Milk for the children. Life, everywhere, eaten and celebrated and worked for and enjoyed. A place where things grow.

I am the place and the place is me.

I dream of laying down to sleep in peace, under the clear sky and the stars, with no fears to keep me from dreaming.

I am the place and the place is me.

I dream of growing old with these people, with the love returning to me again and again, with loving hands holding me as I lay down for the last time, in this place, my place our place.

I am the place and the place is me.

I seek you, my place. I’m becoming you, and you’re becoming me.

Love, Jo xxx

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