Thomas N Kirkpatrick: Almost Heaven, Gebunden

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When the hour brings stillness, even amid confusion, I think that many of us, if not all, have a private sanctuary hidden within our conscious being. Nothing complex or challenging to reach, just a state to which we can readily retreat and sort out the experience of life. Perhaps for most, it is an unnamed region that we find ourselves when deep in thought. It may be the product of meditation, contemplation, imagination, or whatever four or five-syllable words you choose. But it is accurate. It may not be a tangible substance such as wood, stone, or iron, but to our spirits, it is an anchor to weight us to the realities of our lives. Despite our hopes and dreams, it is our escape within us, bearing a reality that can carry our hopes and dreams to truth. It becomes a vision without the physical eye, which empowers us to see beyond what is seen and view what can be. It is the bedrock of faith. Faith is the immeasurable substance that allows us to know God and accomplish things beyond our reach. If I have faith, then I can dream. If I can dream, then I have hope. If I have hope, then I can have a life worth living. My point of refuge then is called Ballengee. Ballengee is a small community tucked away in my imagination's rolling peaks and valleys.

Ballengee is the place where my imagination resides. I realize that you see me here or hear of me there, but in Ballengee, I resolve the questions of life. Perhaps it is a strange state of my choice to linger there, as Ballengee is a fictional place, but it also is the reality of my imagination. Ballengee is fashioned not by my dreams but by the realities of past reflections. I believe it is just, as all fiction is born in the truth. So, I shall define Ballengee as the small town my imagination lives within and manifests to you in my words.