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RINGS AND RIPPLES
Only she can bridge and span nostalgic beaches of my youth with my mindís prize, that distant silhouette of Mont Saint Michel, sea, sky and spire, a portrait of perfection. How joyfully I wore that ring how long its lost memory was locked tightly away... Standing on any beach causes my mind to be assaulted with creative ideas and ruminations, coastal elements alone made me receptive to thoughts that filled my mind until I was burdened. Staring at that grand and engulfing cathedralís spire had the exact opposite effect, I had no thoughts at all in my empty mind. Was this ultimate feeling of contentment or just awe? Dreams live on but the gift of sate is what has so sneakily blessed me with happiness. I raced and ran to every corner seeking out liars looking for truth, until fatigue owned me. When I finally slowed down she found me, keeping her own beauty locked safely away. She survived by hiding all her good and beauty, patiently waiting on her destiny and fate. Her eyes spanned all my youth and began weaving her destiny into my lifeís very fabric, weaving her beauty right into my soul until at long last I was finally living. Her touch and closeness my gift for which gratitude falls forever short of fair. To see God we must use hindsight and our eyes of time and experience. He is easily seen then, obscured for years by a sea of me firsts and woes, all the time knowing only the right path could possibly fit. My arms fit so exact and perfectly around this angel that peace at long last is mine. She is my ring of Mont Saint Michel.
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