N.

"It is Peter, weeping bitterly,
who returns to greater power than ever.”
― Vance Havner

Wood chips smashed under white sandals,
And the laughter of my brother.
We are swinging on leather seats
In the late afternoon.
I peer over the hills of green,
and see your smile in the distance.
Before the spring of colors
Dancing throughout the sky.

We are tired.
A couple of exhausted youth.
We had our fill of
Dirt, grass, and play—
The entire outside world.
You sensed our surrender
And drove us back home.

I can recall
So many memories,
But this one guts me the hardest.
For even after a hard day of work,
You still made time for us and our
Little wood chip park.

If I close my eyes,
I can see it.

Your smile in the distance,
The laughter of my brother.
My feet dangling at your side.

- “My Father And the Wood-Chip Park”

There’s no need to build a labyrinth when the entire universe is one.

—    Jorge Luis Borges