14th & pennsylvania

you wouldn't believe it - i caught a glimpse. a real live show from someday, a concrete example of the possible, although no indication of likelihood or lack thereof. in the fading evening, a fountain glowed, spilling over wet with joy, at a city intersection, and like toys wound up for a musical play, couples twirled about the plaza to beautiful music. i was struck silent, near tears, it was such an amazing sight. no cameras, no judges, no dress code - just people dancing for the sake of dancing, for the pleasure itself. some were self-conscious, others blissfully unaware, some focused and others lost. and i saw us, just on the edge of the group, moving a bit slower than the rest, though in rhythm, more frail and fragile-looking in our old age. we danced with smiles, sometimes with eyes closed, sometimes acknowledging this small urban miracle around us, sometimes wrapped up in our own synchronized bodies. at times like these people inevitably reflect, and we reflected with peace on our past. that peace was a gift but also a reward for hard work, and we had done our time. i tried to remember what it felt like to miss you, but couldn't escape the joy of having you close, all to myself for another few moments, and i was grateful. you were my peace, you were my gift, and in my old age i let go of the long struggle between convincing myself i deserved you and working towards earning you simultaneously, because both sides of that struggle were reconciled with one solution: honoring you, respecting you, loving you as much as i possibly could for as long as god and mother nature agreed upon. i knew our allotted number of breaths in this lifetime were drawing to a close, and the serenity i found in my love for you kept most fears of death at bay. you had always been my inspiration, in this life and in preparation for whatever lay beyond. a sweet slow ballroom dance al fresco with you was big enough to fit all these thoughts, and small enough to help me understand them. it was lovely, and so are you.