Perhaps it is peace.

it is strange how certain memories spark a feeling inside which makes them feel real again.

finding the perfect word for such an experience feels feeble.

How can I explain how it feels to remember,

sunny weekends at home,

Green Day playing on the T.V,

my Mother mopping the floors beneath my feet,

the sound of Dad mowing the lawns outside,

my young mind completely lost in the fantasy world existing within my blue D.S,

Perhaps it is safe.

Or the summer afternoons

returning home from school to spend

the remainder of my day watching cartoons,

my only concern being what's for dinner.

Perhaps is it content.

Or the Sunday lunch shifts at the takeaway I used to work,

when the sky was blue

and the streets were full of life,

and I was greeted by smiling customers whom would happily wait for their food,

because the weather seemed to remind people;

there was plenty of time,

Perhaps it is gratitude.

Or the days at the beach,

when the water was so still

and so clear.

The most incredible blends of deep blue and turquoise,

diving into its cool beauty

in love with the feeling of plunging into the silence

of a completely different world.

sitting on the warm rocks

watching as the sting rays danced underneath the surface,

and realising,

I was not afraid.

but instead completely entranced,

by how something so beautiful can exist,

and by how incredibly perfect

a moment can be.

In these moments,

it is of no concern to me to put a word to this feeling

only that these moments alone,

make life

worth

living.