Dreaming . . .

It is a place I visit often
a place that offers the comfort
of familiarity as though somehow
it is where I belong, a welcoming
place, despite that it often changes.
At times those I love appear
there as well, so why would I
not find comfort there? They
too often change, transformed
by some alchemy of mysterious
origin, to how they were many
years ago. I know this place well
yet somehow it eludes me and
I cannot place nor recall where
it is nor why I so often visit
and what occurs during those
frequent sojourns in that place
other than brief and incomplete
sudden recalls leaving me
baffled at the incomprehension
yet serenity of it all . . .