There is something beyond, something I cannot see. I know it is there, because others have gone before me.
There is a perfect symetry to the Universe, and nothing goes to waste: energy begets energy; matter begets matter; and they both create and destroy each other.
However, there are questions that remain, the shadows of what was, of what we miss, of what we cry for and let go off all at the same time. There are memories of joys and sorrows, which day by day seem further away until, upon a number on a calendar, come rushing back. Then there's wonder at how fresh it all feels, at how long it's been, at how little we notice the vanishing, the going, the was and is no more, creeping up like a monster upon a sleeping child.
There is something beyond, I know.
It's just that, sometimes, when the here is too empty, when I miss too much, I wish I could see through for a moment, a smile, a wave.
One year is all the time there is, yet it is not nearly enough.
