The magic, the glitter of the new, the moment, the flash, always scuffs around the edges, fades, grows shadows, and reality takes its toll. With the frenetic energy of wonder comes the slippery, sliding dark, reminding us all that we are transient. Creatures of impulse and desire.

We are never as good as we think we are. Never as bad as we blame ourselves for being. The universe is a promise of surprise, the shock that comes with the unanticipated; like the hidden light bulb flaring to life.

Souls are too old for consciences. Our bodies, with their fragility, their senses, needs, keep the soul from straying too far from acceptability. Except when the soul is strong. Except when the body falls to frailty, overcome with the soul’s tsunami of a rush. A push. A fleeting backwards glance that maybe never happened.