I feel most at home
In Nameless places
Where people hide their nests
Swaying on fragile branches.
Where there is time to stop and listen
To life whispering promises of wings
Waiting at the journey’s end.
Of all the gifts of grace
Nothing is as precious as longing.
We see it in the meeting
of sky and hoarfrost:
A white-haired aerial world
Fighting the elaborate rules of time.
Or in the quiet of the night sea
Without a single light to reflect.
We see it in the singing hazels
Bleeding into sleeping clouds,
And in the waning sun’s burgundy
Burning the past in its hand.
But most of all we see it in people,
Walking side by side,
Young and growing, old and leaning,
Always haloed by the dream of tomorrow.
We all get sold this idea that life is some kind of beautiful fantasy, then when we learn that that is not true, we hurt, we hurt badly. But we push through that pain. Every day.
When our dreams are shattered and we learn that they will never come true, we make new dreams. When we fully understand the concept of our mortality, we learn to make each day count, to not waste time on things that don’t matter.
When we lose someone we love for the first time, we learn to love the ones that are still there harder, to appreciate them and celebrate our relationship with them.
When family is denied us, or taken away from us, we create our own family. We learn to share out our love to those who need it, with an elderly living alone, with children without parents, with abandoned or threatened animals.
We find happiness despite the pain, and that is what makes human beings so darn strong. And amazing. And awe inspiring. We all live with pain every day. All of us. But we do just that, we live with it. Fully and happily. That is what makes a human being so great.