The Place

There are times when a weightless calm lays across the evening as if something beyond imagining has curled up and gone to sleep at the foot of a starlit sky. It recalls drowsy winter nights in front of a fire, the quiet ambience of a room, the stirring of dreams from deep in their nurseries. Something in us likes to return to here as if this ideal has been set within us, a place to rest and gather what has been broken, to let ourselves be healed. And yet it hides in the hurry and neglect, a place passed on our way to somewhere else, forgotten until such an evening comes when all is too much and what is broken cries out to be healed.