The Brilliance.

There is something quite brilliant about all of this. What do I mean? Well, I guess I must say that I am not quite sure yet. And for this I am thankful. What are the brilliant things? What is all of this? Can you name all of the things that make you cry or, at the least, well up with emotion by simply looking at them?

I think for me these are the brilliant things. The moments and words and feelings that make you realize that, in actuality, it is not all about and that, really, it's much more simple. There is far less to it than we have come to expect. It's the beautiful things that make the endless reservoirs in my face flow with ease.

It's the woman on horseback with hair flowing and hands free. Her eyes closed as the horse gallops gracefully through the open grassy field with hooves pounding and main streaming. All the while, some brilliant artist creates a sunset behind her that makes her into an angel. An angel that will ride away, down into the valley near the town, through the forest of willows and straight on into the sun.

It's the hand of a wife that has never let go after sixty-two years. The wife that, after all of your failings and short comings, still sits in beautifully peaceful silence on the front porch with you just so you can watch the fire-flies like you did when you were young. And with feeble joints and crooked legs the two of you walk slowly and somberly down to the valley and you lay low in the grass and watch the wind blow in and out and over and through every blade of grass. Hearts rummaging.

It's the son that grows up to be older than his years; who is named Noble early on. It's the daughter that learns to find herself in the arms of the oak trees and the bends of the river. It's the children that know they were, are and forever will be loved.

These are the brilliant things. These are the things that make me smile and then cry and then smile again. These are the moments and things and words and acts that create in all of us brilliance. Whether that be watching an angel or holding the hand of one, these are the brilliant things.

The brilliant things don't come wrapped in paper with bows. They don't sit on mantels or on top of bookshelves. And they don't really cost anything. Except for our love and time and lives. But in the end I suppose that is truly the brilliant thing about it. It's the loss of ones life to find it again. That is the beauty. That is the brilliance.