Fresh Feeling

Love; what it should be.  A place of comfort.  A place like home.  But not a home of broken glass and dented pots.  Not one of lost souls and broken hearts.  Not even one where fear is a feeling.  It is a place where smells permeate wooden walls of hot chocolate and coffee.  Of old books and sunny corners.  Of window seats and turning stairwells where you can curl up with a favorite book and a favorite animal and let the words flow.  The caress of words renews the spirit.  They invigorate the spirit as a cup of tea warmed on a wood stove on the corner.  Sweet as the tea infused with honey gives off the scent of passion by the hearth.  No distraction from hate, no discomfort.  Purity and happiness and absolute joy.  Just hope for a new begining at peace with comrades.  Water embraces my heart.  Through it a child is cradled by it's mother, a father to the family, a home to feel love in like I remember from so long ago.  The color of nature, the color of the world I love.  Beauty the way iridescent reflects through whissps of water world revolving.  Water with the world as it's outline.  The sky across which clouds dwell reigns forever in this place above earth.  Beauty infuses the spirit with wonder.   There is beauty out there and it is hard to find, but it is still winnowed out in the moments between the dischord for as peace grows a feeling of calm renews the place.  Peacefull pleasance and love is the word to remember.