Full Circle...

Full Circle... Do you hear it? The quiet, soft running of the water as it passes over the stones as it steadily moves downstream. The aged, smooth stones. Brown of color... some lighter than others. Gentle, easy to the touch as we step over and around them. Long ago memories... smooth, gentle, easy on the mind... more round and smooth as time passes... and the flow of our lives drifts over and beyond. I remember the boy that I was... running, with the breeze on my face. Carefree... searching for and finding adventures here by the stream. Warm days and happy voices calling out never thinking that one day this would be the memory of an old man. Those were good memories. Knowing that this place was special. A private world in which to play... and dream... and wonder about all the wonders that lay ahead. Full circles... full circles. Later, when the days saw me older... I would come back to this place. This place in time... this special place; and I would sit and wonder about more serious things than just play. The dirt, dark, and damp under me... with the smell of older things gone on. Picking a smooth stone and skipping it across the water. Watching as it finally disappeared under the widening circles as they slowly made their way over to the far side. Quiet sounds as they brushed against the ground beyond. Many thoughts became real plans there. Many so called problems... worked themselves out during those days. Full circles... full circles. As I grew to be a man... thinking I had the answer for all the problems... I didn't remember those easy days of my special place. Confident... almost cocky at times with my book learned wisdoms... and my limited life experience. How can I possibly be wrong? Spirit bright determined to win... sometimes at a cost that was too high. At least it was for some who stayed only for awhile... then went away. I never thought they left because of me. They left because they had other places to be, other things to do... that's all. Their loss, not mine. Such a fool I was. I would get a glimpse every now and then of those circles widening in the water... but I either didn't take the time for them... or I didn't understand just what I was seeing. My life was just too busy... to bother. Full circles... full circles. Now... Winter is here. The air has a bite to it that burns against the cheek. I find myself walking back along those old paths of memories. Back down by the stream where I made my choices... drowned my failures. I stand there looking, not seeing at first my old friend... my old special place. Just standing... hidden under the tall bank it has carved away. Standing... wondering whatever became of the boy and his dreams? Understanding the dreams of the boy were not the realities of the man. Kneeling down... picking up a smooth brown stone I wonder why I had abandoned this place... and my memories? Feeling the stone in my hand. It's constant weight... the smoothness of the topside... I became aware it was like my choices I had made. Smooth clearly defined... made more perfect with time. But turning it over... the stone was pitted... and rougher to the touch. I wish I had seen that when I was much younger... and heeded it's quiet warning. Laughter... downstream I hear laughter. Another generation finding their special place. Another generation to play, and think, and grow. I turned and walked back up the hill... with the stone now safe... in my pocket. Lessons learned... Full circles... full circles.