Having caught glimpses, it makes it easier to believe.
Beauty, in glimpses, goodness, in glimpses.
It's climbing the stairs at the waterpark, getting to the top and looking down.
It's being out of breath, reaching for the railing, wavering from the sight.
At the sun drenched bodies, at the water drops flying off in sparkles from a boy's hair.
A line drawn from my eyes to yours, to theirs.
A collective sigh of pleasure, an ocean of laughing souls.
Once my voice was dancing with the surf. Once it stayed on the bank.
Drying, disappearing as fast as the streaks of foam left behind.
But at the top… I can believe I still belong it this echo.
Amazing how the climb is long and arduous. How the descent just happens.
I'm hanging on to the the railing, not quite fighting the pull yet.
Just getting some glimpses.
Sometimes it’s all there is… a flash of lighting, giving day to the darkened world.
until I’ve experienced it, it was hard to really grasp the meaning of this. at times I though I had. but it wasn’t it. up until very recently. and I realize something else. the more I experience it, the more I’m able to see, really see, while the flash happens. you know what I mean? the lighting always lasts the same amount of time. but while its there, I can now open my eyes, and see.