12:19 p.m. -
The Park
Look carefully at the leaves, the grasses, flying geese and bouncing little creatures, the docks, gazebo and shoreline. I am there. Fragments, remnants of my heart, my spirit, fill this wondrous park. It is me though I claim no mere ownership. I am here where my joy springs forth with the morning light and in the evening rests with the song of the nightingale. To just utter "I love Glen Allan Park", seems so trite, so caged, but then how can I utter the ineffable? My heart has no gates to contain my affection, it must burst forth and merge with the beloved here and now. I've stepped over the edge, luminosity surrounds all within vision so that even my hands and bare feet have taken on a glow. What bliss is this? I'm overcome.
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