Remember walking from the cottage
to the marshy place with all the frogs?
Over there, a circle of bricks, a raised flower bed,
maybe a foot off the ground.
Near where the sidewalk starts and stops
like an unfinished project.
See it?
It must have once held flowers,
but I don't remember that part.
What I do know is that when we were young
it was impossible to pass by
without walking around the circumference,
at least once, often more.
Barefoot. Arms extended for balance.
Sometimes chasing each other
in a spontaneous game of tag.
...
Walking around the circle now,
seeing with the eyes of an adult,
finally beginning to understand
the rare beauty of our childhood.
Recognizing the sacredness of this place.
Noticing this moment, now.
The pendulum swings from being the child
to seeing through older eyes.
(Hello grandma. It's taken years of living
but now I'm beginning to understand.)
Both experiences are worthy.
Today it is my sister and I.
Arms outstretched,
seeking balance.
Enjoying the moment just because it is.
A spontaneous game of life.
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