I drove home recently after a sunny day and there was a beauty in the world. Dusk was falling, the trees were inky black against the bright sky. Beauty brings pain these days. I have always felt the two are somehow not far from each other, but even more so now.
Immediately after Kent died the world felt so ugly. I know that where he is there is only beauty and what we live with here falls so short. I resented the ugliness. Now I see that there is beauty here too, but oh how even that hurts. It would seem right, perhaps, to take comfort and receive some kind of joy from these things. Beautiful music, the smell of a garden at dusk, a good meal, a starlit night sky. But music seems to breath my pain, I look for Kent in the shadows of the dusk, and he is further away than the stars. Beauty has been ruined for me. I wonder if one day I might get it back?
Perhaps Kent is closer than the stars. I will never visit the stars, but I will see him again.
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