Reunion 2

If memories are a flowing stream, I took a trip down that river a few days ago.

Sitting peacefully as the water ripples past me, my fingers trail through the coolness of yesterday.

Here I am walking down my childhood avenue.  Each little step I take moves me back in time.

Trees arch over the sidewalk.  People greet me with smiles and affectionate glances.  Do they know me?  Do I look familiar to them?

My homeplace is different, but the same.  The road that passes by is different but the same.  I can hear the echoes of  games played in the field across the street.  There are my childhood friends in dim array waiting in the green and summery yard.  I reach out and they hold me in their warm embrace.  I breathe the sweet smell of summer and recollection.

It is a warm and lovely feeling to be in my hometown.  Houses where I spent happy times with friends and family still call to me.  Peace covers the evening scape.  Flowers of all sorts are blooming in colorful array in gardens.  Neighbors sitting on porches wave as I pass.

And now I move to another part of my past.  This is more difficult.  These are faces I should know. I look into the eyes of my childhood friends, grownup and far from young.  And, joy of joys, I know who they are.  We have been separated for many years.  But we know each other.  Years fall away and we are young again.  We visit and spend our time in happy recollection.  For a time we live in the past. 

And when we part, my heart is glad that I came to spend some time with them. The river of memory has been kind to me.  I don't recall the hard times.  Pain doesn't mar my pleasure.

A wonderful time.  A time of reunion.  A time of renewal.  I wish I could go back and trail my hand through that stream one more time.

Life goes on.  But I am truly molded by my past.  I see the distant faces again.  And I smile.