From a vantage point high above, I look down on the city lights. Tiny twinkles of color, some in motion. Storefronts and streetlamps and traffic. Overhead, airplanes drift without wakes through an infinite sea of stars. And everything is still and quiet, so I can think. And I used to sit and wonder, could any of those lights be you? Just maybe? And I would smile.
I would sometimes even dream that in that dizzying array of lights there was one, a most important one, that was moving toward me. And it could be coming from the ground or the sky or even the higher planes of space. And that light was you headed toward me, to open your heart to me, finally. To settle my spirit and hold it tightly to yours.
But what I now see is that for me, All of those lights have become you. Because even though I have long since lost the ability to pick you out, I know you are there somewhere, sharing your beautiful love with others, and I’m certain you are shining. And if it were even remotely possible that I could see you, then I would, and I do. And so now I just immerse myself in all those lights, and I imagine you everywhere. You are all of them. I think about you and I smile. Yes, wistfully. But also with a deep happiness that there was a time, once, when you were close so I could pick you out, and you shined your bright light on me, and let me give you my heart.