the path

tonight i have been reflecting on the journey that brought me to where i am now. the path that led to wife...mother...was paved with a mosaic of memories.

chipped glass, ceramic, decorated tile and hints of boys of girls of oceans of the backseats of cars of rose petals of tears of journals and books and words
of stories of fireworks and ice chips
of pillowcases and willow trees
of independant swings and shell seeking
of deep woods talking of midnight conversations of waterfalls of jumping....
of curly hair and big earrings and naked swim parties of witches and tarot readers and love lines of soft mellow music of harsh stomping music of concerts where you weep and concerts where you scream
of love notes and love letters and the smell of libraries of yellow paper of maple syrup and dusty basements of secret keys and back rooms of ice skates....

the path is paved with words and pictures art and music and fragments of dreams of starry nights and loud waves of photobooths and deep communication
of courdoroy pants and guitars of alcohol and paint

of a burst of bright white light
of beaches and convertables and champagne in the shower of candles on the floor of fire escapes of puppies and chicken pot pies and flowers
of handstands
of rocky beaches of angry tides of hate and pain and the triumph of love
of visual journals and words in your head of potted plants and bright fish of fireplaces made out of stones
of love and loss of hope and faith of despair and longing of the changing tides
of swelling bellies of the rush of water of the birth of a universe
of baby toes and olive oil
of thick grass and rosebushes
of zuchinni seeds and terracotta pots

of the smell of the ocean

of the brush of wings