"Come inside," it says. "Put your feet up," it says. "There is repast for the spirit here, and rest for the weary. I will feed and comfort you. I will embrace your hurts and sing you songs of healing joy."
There is an old arm chair on the front porch of the watchtower of my soul. It is padded with contentment and ease. It invites those I care for to rest awhile in it's abundance as it is resplendent in joy, self-knowledge, and abiding contentment.
"Relax" it says. "Enjoy" it says. "There is soothing here and sweetness. Laughter and light. Stay a while and breathe deep of all that is good and true. I will brush back the fears from your forehead and protect you from them while you sleep."
As I peer out from the fortress of my fortitude I find, once again, that the view from my soul is a pleasing one. Endless possibility is spread out before me like so many mountains, standing rugged and rough hewn, in the rays of the arching late-autumn sun. Rivers of choice run in the valleys. Waterfalls of wonder pound out any doubts. I can hear the birdsong of many joys echoing off the distant hills and I often sing along. Opportunity grows on the trees around here, and everything smells like excitement and evergreen.
© Tanya Anguita