August 4 - A Parade For Charlize

A parade came by my street this morning. I wanted you to see it. There were horses, and onyx, and unicorns. They shon, those unicorns; blue, and gold, and pink. Their horns seemed the oldest part of them. Silver and twisting. I wanted you to be with me there, on the bench in front of the house, sitting beside me. I wanted to see your smile.

I imagine there are parades like this where you are. Wonderful floats, of wood and stone, rolling along at the pace you want. Out your window, you notice the parade. Here a grey ship rescued from the bottom of the ocean, gliding on hidden tracks, drifting stolidly by, haunted and forgotten. Here a troupe of monkeys unicycling. They weave a pattern you're sure looks good from overhead. The performance is impeccable, and fleeting. Here is a fashionable group of men. They wear berets and sunglasses, and they walk atop the world they own.

I imagine this, but I cannot be sure it is the case. I have ceased to hear you. I have ceased to see you, save in my mind, where you are always. It has been given to me, to love you. It is my birth-task, and I abide it with great dedication. You are the air I breathe. You lift me up on wings of eagles. These are things said to God, about God. They are things I say to you.

A parade came by my street this morning. I wanted you to see it.