My Own Backyard

I sat in my backyard looking around.  The trees, planted so long ago, when I was
just a child, still stand guard over me, supporting me, sheltering me.  They
have taken the brunt of many storms, the strike of lightning that left its mark
down the side of the Cottonwood, and still it stands, determined not to give up.
The Maple that extended its branches for my children to climb higher than their
small statures would allow them to reach, still stands in the corner of the yard
providing an umbrella like cover with its thick and lush leaves. 
No park could replace this haven that I have been blessed unto.  And yet, as
days run into weeks, I forget to go there, to really feel the presence of peace
and love available to me there. 
This peace and love is inside me, too, and like my backyard, I forget to visit
this place, to visit that place.  It is like floating above a peaceful body of
filled with lilies and rocked by gentle breezes.  And yet, I fill my life
with chaos and people’s problems and focus on the outer instead of taking a
walk through this loving place within. 
But today I remember, and I walk leisurely under the the canopy of branches and
let my toes brush the tops of the blades of grass, the dew gathering on the
soles of my feet.  Someone speaks, their world upside down and filled with
issues and anger, and I listen with my ears while my heart picks a flower and
brings it to my nose. 
Breathing deeply, I am reminded of the reality that lives inside, in my own


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