Rumination on the power of those three words

Sabrina Ward Harrison; http://www.sabrinawardharrison.com/

You will remember that leaping stream

where sweet aromas rose and trembled,

and sometimes a bird, wearing water

and slowness, its winter feathers.

You will remember those gifts from the earth:

indelible scents, gold clay,

weeds in the thicket and crazy roots,

magical thorns like swords.

You'll remember the bouquet you picked,

shadows and silent water,

bouquet like a foam-covered stone.

That time was like never, and like always.

So we go there, where nothing is waiting;

we find everything waiting there.
~Pablo Neruda~