Angels and Muses and Music and Angles

When someone you love dies, you are in the presence of a universal inevitability. Only some of the tears are for the one who has passed. The others are because we are awestruck, overwhelmed by the sheer massiveness of the event. The curtain is lifted and we gaze into infinity and, as Nietzsche almost said, infinity gazes back.

Cut to … the face of a woman you love. The perfectness, the strength and vulnerability therein. The curtain is lifted and there it is…infinity gazing back at you. This time, perhaps, the tears are sublimated into singing or dancing or smiling like a buffoon or walking home from the train station and looking up at Bob and saying ‘Oh man! You are…you are….you just soooo are!’

Musicians lost in song, photographers choreographing light, angels and muses hand in hand under the all loving beauty of God. The curtain lifts. We catch our breath. We are alive.


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