We run together
while holding hands and laughing
with no place to stop.

Playing together in the park I feel like we are kids again
when the world outside seemed endless
and the space went on forever.

Of course, the field or meadow or playground did have a limit,
but we just didn’t care, or worry that we would reach it.

As we grow, we are taught to dwell on the lack of things;
and focus on what we don’t have instead of what is available.
It’s the edge of our property, the roadblocks ahead
or the rules that inhibit our sense of unending freedom.

When we are together, I forget that there are walls
and only see the space we share as a wide and beautiful place.

Like children at the beach, there is only water, sky, and sand
as far as the eye can see.

There’s no passing lane
in funeral processions.
Just condolences.

I tell funny stories about the past to remember that there were happier days.

But I stop when we enter the cemetery gates. And speak in soft tones so none of the buried souls think it’s a party.

I eulogize a life well spent with an acronym:

L. Be Loving and kind.
O. Face the world with an Open heart.
V. Live Virtuously and seek honesty.
E. Let Empathy be your guide.

I might change my name.
Hopeful is a lot of work.
Maybe just “Has Hope”.

On the one hand, names are important because they can give clues about who we are, or they
can give a certain impression. And after you get to know a person, their name IS them.

It’s not written in stone though, and people can change their name anytime, and
sometimes they can change themselves along with it.

It’s probably a good idea to test out some on an Internal Use Only basis. That means just me,
and the me inside of me.

I call him “Me,” but soon I am going to start calling him, “Hero, Champ and Super Dog-Dad.”

I realize that I really like that guy inside of me, and I think other people should too,
so maybe a more illustrative way of describing him, me is in order.

I believe I will call him, “True to Me and You.”

I post my feelings
like the verses of a song.
You are the music.

That’s right.
But, without you, without the spark of our Love, they are just empty words on a page.

But with you, my heart crescendos to new highs, and my words become red-hot coals.
I hear our soundtrack begin as soon as I see your outline approaching me from the distance.

That’s when I knew what was happening.

When the regular sounds of night become rhythms, or late-night thunder becomes
the chorus of our passion, it is you.

When those pre-dawn (good)morning bird songs are sweet wake up sounds, and make me laugh,
then I know they are about you.

That’s when life is music, and my stride is easy and long, as I walk on my way.
I hear our songs and I don’t even need headphones to sing along karaoke style.

[Remember to look both ways before crossing]