I should be memorizing a poem that I have to recite tomorrow morning. If not, I should at least be sleeping right now. But I can’t. I can’t sleep. I can’t study. I can’t act like everything is normal. Rarely am I compelled to write, but tonight? Oh, if only I could tell you all of it. Tonight I must write these words. I must write this down, so that I can look back and remember. These things should never be lost, but if they are, let them only be lost for a time, so that they may return to us and us to them, knowing that they are all the more precious.
I love the smell of dirt. I love the thick, rich earthiness of it. I love the soft bed it makes, cradling seeds and flowers and roots and rocking them softly to sleep.
I love rain. I love the way the warm, heavy air foretells of a pregnant sky, ready to give birth to these little greenlings underneath it. I love the way the rain falls, hesitantly at first because it doesn’t ant to ruin our plans. The droplet-children are hesitant at first, tip-toeing on the sidewalk and peeking around corners. But soon they are happy bouncing boisterous children, playing in the halls of the forest and running down the stairs with their cousins in the waterfall. They are warm and plump, kissing your hands and cheeks and eyelids like a thousand little puddle-hugs. I love the clean renewal that comes after a storm has tapered off into a lazy drizzle. I love splashing through the puddles and breathing in the aroma of nature’s own laundry detergent.
I love laughter. To hear joy is an incredible thing. Laughter is pure delight. pure joy, pure exhilaration. I love hearing someone laugh so hard they nearly cry. I love the sheepish chuckle, the awkwardly-timed outburst, the rolling-on-the-floor-roar. I love the bubbly giggle. To laugh with someone is to make and share memories, to let out happiness into the air around you. But you get a little vial of it somewhere between synapses, to be unleashed and let loose on those dreary days, so that you can smile again.
I love words. Dangerous weapons they are, but only because they can be used for an incredible amount of good. A gripping story, a light-hearted line, a great novel, a beautiful rhyme. To capture and record the heart’s fluttering pitter-patter, to embody the spirit of a nation, to comfort the outcasts… Oh beauty in you marks scrawled on pages!
I love a well-cooked meal. Savory sauces over a bed of perfect pasta, the smell of freshly baked home-made cookies. The blends of spices on seasoned meats, the zest of complimenting vegetables. To eat, to savor, to chew–such flavor! To invite in and offer what you’ve made with your own hands. To break bread (and your diet) around a table with the people you love…
I love music. Words, yes, words are wonderful. But that perfectly pitched harmony, and that caressing cry of the cello–where are the words for these? Who can describe the patriotism stirred by the french horn or the freedom by the flute? How do you tell someone of the contemplative clarinet or the virtues of a viola? When words are not enough, let there be music.
I love beholding something magnificent. A majestic sunset, the clear air of a night sky with stars and moon…. The glorious dawn of sunrise, bursting forth and putting the dark to shame. A grass so vibrantly green and a sky so purely blue, the sun so bright that you feel transcendent just looking at what it shines light on. Oh, the sight of the hills and flat-lands from the view of a mountain top!
To journey is to go far together, living and breathing and walking and falling. To journey is to set out with one end goal in mind, to battle and struggle through thick dark clouds that weigh heavy on our souls and make room for Beauty to burst forth. And soon it will be on full display, for all the world to see. To think of the possibilities if we actually lived as if this were true–no fear in life and a total hope in the Death.
Perhaps one day I will be able to return to this list and add what more I delight in. There is simply so much to see and to know and to hear. There is so much to learn. We have each other. We have people that inspire and challenge and encourage. We have so much beauty, dear friends. Let it not fall deaf on your ear–Let it not! Let it not! Let it not rise and set before blind eyes. Let us see, let us know, that there is good yet. This is not the end, fellow travelers!