Her home of a tree,
She jostles down,
As if height were but a myth.
She hobbles up,
And greets my hand,
With kisses of a little black nose.
She rustles up to me,
Her soft fur comforting me,
As all of nature sways.
"I haven't seen you in ages" I say,
Feeling as though too many years,
Years have passed since I have seen her.
As I think about my time as a child,
Naive and dependent,
I think about my adulthood.
She makes no noise,
But the ruffles of her feet—
My smile hers as I brush her.
After all this time,
I feel differently about this place,
This changed, familiar place.
She is the sun of Nostalgia's light,
A memory of the past.
I reminisce about the fallen trees,
And wonder how long she has waited.
"I'm sorry I neglected you so long" I say to her,
"I simply had to grow up".
Her whiskers warmly tickled me,
Her thoughtless happiness saying,
"I forgive you" in some way.
I think about the stretches of time,
In which all has changed,
Yet I stand in the back of the mystifying yard,
A slice of altered past, long swept by the seas of time,
Where she affectionately acknowledges me.
As her soft, large, round, greyish, white-brown face,
Pushes against my ankles as I squat,
I forget the strain of my body's weight.
She lifts my spirit into the air,
Leaving behind my grounded form,
As we gaze at each other from eye to eye to eye to eye.
"Come back any time", she says,
"And I'll be here.
I'll never be lost to time".
I open my eyes, sitting amongst the grass of a lonely yard.
The encroaching forest chirps with lulled noises, as I look at my hand, extended for naught but the short stalks of green that rise from the ground.
I feel my adult self, my life, pouring through my head.
I know, from within the realm of my heart, I know that I can always return.
I can always return and feel her again.
Nostalgia.
© 2019 t.v. Amaryllis
