Ode to joy

Ode to joy

Beauty encapsulated.  Part of an orchestra.  The climax.  Written by a man so deaf... but so genius.  Concocting only from memory that which he wished to display.  Somewhere in between... he created majesty.  Love for brothers, kindred separated by war.  A war based on nothing that could divide the union. 

I saw her at the traffic light you know.  Her face golden and alight in a sun transitioning from its overhead to the radiant orange of its descending.  She had cut it short... or at least shorter.  Now it clung to her shoulders.  A sign, if anything, of limited freedom.  So limited.  But one must take it parcel by parcel if that is all that is allowed.  I had been her friend.  Friendship has a way of keeping one eye open.  But, I had been her lover.  So blind.  So desperate.  She had given me a reason, she had given me value.  She gave me joy.  But sadly, as her friend, I saw all.

I loved her.
And sometimes... she loved me.

So it goes.

She at least finally registered her marriage Stateside you know.  That means something.  I guess.  Sometimes she forgets that a friend loves you in spite of who you are. 

In the end, I found the right words and I kept them simple.  Thank you for being my friend.  Of course she ripped the card I wrote this on in half.  Thanks.

So it goes.

So it ever goes.

Regardless, blessings to you.  My beautiful one, separated by a war of your own creation.

Ode to joy my sweet.  Ode to joy.