Photo by Roman Kraft on Unsplash
Write about an Island…
Rabbits. Quiet, jumping, content. Buns out, legs out. And chairs.
Lots of cozy chairs. And books. Books about interesting people telling
stories from the heart. About love
won. And love lost. Lessons learned. Coffee or tea. In Reggio inspired surroundings. Reminding us of the lovely bits of
childhood. Nice wood furnishings. And chandeliers made from random pieces. And the only music heard from time to time
would be produced by joy. Or peace. Or quiet. Lovely quiet. There’s a loft for those who want to sit and
talk quietly or read a stack of books by E. B. White or Kate Dicamillo. Over to my right is a craft table filled with
tissue paper and beads and noodles painted by children and yarn to make pom
poms. And air dry clay.
The weary would know about this island. And those who once gave their souls to
something bigger than themselves that were tossed aside as if their
contributions and sacrifices didn’t matter.
Those who forgot how to cry would find solace there. Those who laugh to keep from crying would
feel lifted and supported here. And they
would tell others that needed it about this island. That there is a place where your comrades
meet. Where you can feel the hope
kindling like logs in a fireplace. A place
where your hallelujah will return.