because there will be joy again. sometime, unexpectedly a crocus will bloom. a leaf will sprout. a new person will smile because I was funny, or cry because I touched their heart and left it better for the touching. because my child is growing, growing, tall and funny and so kind. they are a miracle. they are a work of art. for it to be so, I must have done something right after all. because of five-part harmonies and sci-fi conventions and the next chapter of that stupid, lovely show. because the flowers that grow in trenches would grow in the meadow, too. because the wheat grows again and so will you and so will I.
















