Dear World, thank you.
I am grateful for my adventures had, and all that will come. With time, with patience and with motivation to learn more of your secrets, your history and your breadth of age.
There is so little I’ve seen of you, and yet I feel like I’ve accumulated such staggering chapters of reverie and romance and glittering, passing, yet momentous memories. How can a person see so little, yet learn so much?
To walk down the same dust roads as ancient gods, to breathe the same air as conquerers and those who have been conquered. It’s a great big conundrum. Time passes, nature adapts, humans pass… and you are here evermore (or so I hope). How can I be here for just a blip of a moment in time? How can I soak in all the history you’ve enveloped?
I am grateful. I am confounded. Breathless. For you have shown me more in my few short years than I could ever hope. You have blessed me with electric skies and ebbing fields of wildflowers and grass. You have exposed me to ancient stoned walls and sooty, bleak landscapes. With your effortless grace, you have shown me more staggering sights and still, quiet nights than a girl should ever dream of.
To soak in all that you are, all that you have been, all that you encompass is too big of a task for a small girl like me. But I am hopeful that I will have more chapters with you as my setting and my compass.