What a glorious day to be alive

When the drugs wear off
and the dopamine’s low
That’s when the angels swoop in
With their swords of vengeance
And arrows of self-doubt.
On another crusade to make you feel bad
About yourself.

As if they represented the good in life
For they are the murderous zealots
armed with a history of judgmental patriarchy
They represent the holy atrocity
Responsible for some many deaths
And so much derision
And they come in the guise of self-recrimination

But when the sun shines
while the birds sing their hopeful song.
You are reminded that life is still lived.
There is a sublime satisfaction in self actuation
Where you tell the angels to fuck right off
For they hold no dominion over you.

You see them for what they are.
Fables. Lies. Stories used to explain hallucinations.
The drugs have allowed you to see them for what they really are.

When you can wake up on those days
And realize you lived by your own moral code
When you did right by everyone
And harmed no one
Or at least minimized
your impact to unintentional antipathies

When you kicked off the safety
And turned the gun of temporary madness
Back upon yourself.
You reveal your truest self.

That’s when you can stand toe to toe
Wing to wing
With Gabriel and his kind.

How do you express the perfect moment?
How do you encapsulate the surreal beauty
Of a warm June’s afternoon
With a cerulean sky so big and so clear
your words get lost trying to border the vastness
When the dappled golden rays of everyone’s sun
Filter through the precise leaves of trees
whose names and stories you’ll never know.
What words can possibly describe the feeling of unadulterated, enviable, world-destroying love.
love that is shared on a freshly power-washed deck,
backing a house full of memories -
of chores complete,
of lives commingled
and of secrets shared.

How can express it when you are reeling in awe?
when you are left stupefied, dumb and humbled by the sheer impossibility of that moment.
When you stop to consider how somehow this cold and uncaring universe rolled the dice so precisely in your favor.
When you realize how a single life choice, or random occurrence, or harsh word could have turned this precise moment into so many others.
How do you hold something so fragile and ephemeral in you hands?
How dare you try to limit it with words?