You welcome me over and over again

as I return to hold your hand

and lose myself upon your cobblestone streets.

 

Deep-seated joy arises

as we land at Charles de Gaulle,

and the RER carries me across your threshold.

 

The center of my being expands,

and I fall in love again.

 

Along the sculpture garden pathway at Musée Rodin,

where timeworn statues beckon,

‘Slow down, stay awhile.’

 

L’Orangerie entices with its radiant water lily canvasses

and I could stay for days, feasting my eyes upon the colors,

sinking into silence and solitude.

 

Even the Louvre calls my name.

 

As I step into the ancient and enduring art of Islam,

cerulean, sapphire, ruby and scarlet hues lure me

past magic carpets and unlatched doors.

 

My feet sashay across granite floors

where marble figures fill me

with tranquility, and I hear them whisper,

 

‘Remember to love your pilgrim’s heart,

no need to dash about, it’s time to set aside

your tourist rush and be.’

 

Sipping a glass of wine at the café

I tune in, as the delicate pulsing music

of a foreign tongue wafts about my head.

 

My eyes are mesmerized by the fountain,

where statuesque lions guard four corners,

bewitching me with their gazing presence.

 

Meandering past the boulangerie, a raspberry tart tempts,

‘Come indulge me, let’s go enjoy one another’s company

in the Luxembourg Gardens.’

 

Silence echoes through the chambers in Notre Dame

as spirit’s voices pulse through longstanding stone,

‘Pause, breathe, be.’

 

A gentle ‘ah’ escapes my lips,

and in that moment,

all is well with the world.

 

Merci Paris.

Je t’aime.