Dream
I am walking past my childhood home when I meet two golden retrievers—one old and one young. The old one hangs back, unsure, but the young one comes to me. He has a white, silky coat, and in the middle of his plain face are set two large, coal-black eyes.
He looks up at me, his soft eyes brimming with affection, and holds my gaze. He then jumps up, and we embrace.
*
*
I go within and once again see the young golden retriever’s eyes. As I look into those two deep, dark wells I am enveloped by his trust. It is effusive and childlike, and goes straight to my heart. My breath deepens, a smile lights up my face, and tears fill my eyes. How wonderful to be trusted in this way.
But then I realise that this trust does not belong to the dog—it is within myself. It is as if a child-part of me, that has hidden itself for decades, waiting for a time to come when it can live free of fear, now knows that it is safe to trust.
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Thomas Hurst 