Irony

I see things so differently since that instant when everything changed. Faith lost, perhaps hope as well, but … perhaps I now see clearly things I’d ignored, things I’d refused to understand.

Perhaps I now understand the physical nature of beauty somewhat better, its dark side, its snares, its traps, its devious undulations, while still believing in its inherent and intangible, less personal side.

The beauty nurtured in humility and in surviving despair with grace, the beauty of striving against hopeless odds because one knows it’s the right thing to do and that the cost is not relevant.

The beauty that lives in the most mundane daily experience, in a parent’s unrequited and unappreciated love, in a child’s unquestioning trust, in a flower’s quest to kiss the sun.

Strange if it turns out that in some small way I’ve attained enlightenment and that she’s its source, irony smiling down on me from her mysterious abode hidden somewhere in a recess of my soul.
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