In at least a more perfect world

I could have said something to you. We could have talked. We could have met in the middle of the lawn, me there playing Kali'ama, you there with whatever you do now. And I could have stopped and noticed you, and nodded for you to sit down. And I would have skootched over a bit, and you'd sit down. And we'd smile at each other.

I'd tell you how happy I was, how perfect it all felt, how blessed I was. How beautiful life was. How I found those wings I'd told you about...

And you'd tell me how you were finally happy, how life made all this sense to you, how you loved her and she was perfect for you - and how she made you feel alive inside. How you loved God and you loved her and you loved everything about being alive.

I'd sit there and strum a few notes on Kali, picking a few of them, even - just making conversation on her strings - and I'd smile at you from the grass, and I'd feel that joy that I hadn't felt in so long for you.

And I'd tell you I was happy for you. And you'd tell me you were so glad I found what I was looking for all along. Then maybe we'd hug or just nudge each other on the arm - and you'd go back to wherever it is you go now.

And we'd be okay with it, with everything. And we'd be happy with this life again.

That'd make everything better. brighter.

But this world isn't that perfect. And I can't have that closure, that assurance, that gilmmer of light from that corner of old rooms. And so, it will never be...

-RK