The world will get in between, it will, and only true love will survive it. The world will make these moments harder to obtain, push us all apart, make us write the letters, give us only voices, leave us only Kodak frames; time will take the final blow – we will not eat when food cannot sustain us any longer. Love would come around the corner and look at me and smile, it would, and I would have to smile right back or else love would be gone, put up or shut up for a while and the clouds would fulfill all the sky on another rainy day, when nothing was expected, while looking for glimpses of the sun, rubbing the fog of my breath off the glass, love would show and again disappear. There in the park watching me with my head in my hands trying to sort it all out, and a squirrel would come by and I would not pay attention, and a child would come over and I would avert my eyes or hang my head deeper between my elbows, hiding, and when I finally got to looking up with all of it sorted out, love would be gone. I was waiting in line for it, too, tapping my foot or fidgeting around, trying to look cool or at least interesting, wearing my sunglasses indoors, waiting for my number to be called. All that waiting and love was right there beside me, waiting, too, and when I wondered much later why I had not had a chance at it, I would worry myself about it and wonder what was possibly so wrong with me, not even realize it was right there waiting for me and with me again! And so I might even get so lost in a feeling, lost in my thinking, so lost in the doing, the weave deeper into a rooted sadness with all the laughter and sunshine around me; identifying, identifying with sadness which stayed with me when it might have passed by – but not now! The kids that came to play would demand I play with them, and stomp on my feet if necessary, talk my thinking right out of my head, hold my hand and pull me away from myself; like love forcing itself upon me, attacking me, and I could either fight for my sadness or put up! And heaven is a place on earth when the change comes along and you let it. Earth is a place on earth and a good place when you get with it. Mess yourself up in the dirt. Work really hard and get tired. Like you mean it and then you realize you do, you do mean it, and then it’s like a spring or source of fullness inside, out, and it is bright. And you remember it from a long time ago; you might be singing, dancing, or crying with friends or without, inside or out, rain or sunshine, happiness or pain, whatever your condition don’t matter anymore, cause love got ahold of you and it’s nothing like it ever was before except relentless and freeing.