My red travel suitcase with the butterfly is overflowing with people, places and animals. Peter, Mary and Martha, tents and castles, elephants and camels. The Poetry muse pulls journal memories like dusty books from the bookcase and arranges them on the pages to share with you. I’ve always said I could be packed in thirty minutes to go anyplace in the world. But the lasting pleasure comes at home remembering the taste of St. Peter’s fish fresh from the sea of Galilee. And the smell of coffee roasted in the fire, ground in a mortar and pestle, and served in a Bedouin tent like Abraham’s and Sarah’s.
We walk the street of the silver merchants in Ephesus stroke the softness of a newborn lamb in the market in Beersheba. The ship rocks gently in Aegean breezes. The wedding music dances in our mind and the cry of a newborn stirs my heart.
Shall we sit before the magnificent altar of Seville’s Cathedral, pay our respects at the tomb of Columbus, and stay the night in San Pedro’s Castle? Or safari among the African animals, have a drink at the Crocodile Bar and spend the night in a thatched roof hotel at a watering hole? Tomorrow morning breakfast with the Cheetah’s before we fly home with the pictures and stories.
The apricot nectar of this January evening has me dreaming again of ski slopes in Norway or strawberry snow cones at the Zoo. I hear there is going to be a party this summer at the Zoo…