part II: in Bruges

I first visited Bruges four and half years ago - and fell in love with her then; her glorious canals and brickwork facades and dainty lace.

Little serendipities,
thoughtfully curtained windows,
a dog settling in for a water view,
a road lined with thrift stores and antiquities,
a conversation with a japanese man sketching the cityscape
(as I hushed my baby to sleep)
savouring dark chocolate with fruit and nuts in a grand bath tub,
sharing steaming hot pomme-frites in the market square,
holding umbrellas, baby-wearing,
flemmish stew, the acquisition of "family binoculars",
sips of trappist beer, or sparkling water,
perfectly boiled eggs in the morning,
greenery,
cobbles,
walks with my mama,

visiting the church I found four and half years ago,
and pausing in remembrance and thanksgiving
for all the time that's passed between us
for who I am now
a wife, a mum,
an artist, a dreamer -
a faithful believer
that the divine love of God
finds us everywhere,
anywhere,
if we let it -
and grows,
delicate,
strong,
true,
lace-like
in the soul.