Possible Happiness II

The weather in my mind is a fickle thing. Some days rain gives way to sun, some days peace gives way to chaos, but a day in the mind is only a moment in reality. So the waves lap the shores of my quiet thoughts, only to crash with sudden violence. The little boat that I have taken out to sea totters precariously on each black crest. But the tempest calms, appeased by my prayers, perhaps, and once more I glimpse that realm in the corner of my mind’s sky, that realm called “Possible Happiness.” In the rare moments when I have caught a glimpse of that secret world, I have seen New York, where human hands add stars to the constellations of sleepless nights; I have seen Normandy, whose wild grasses sway to a silent song sung by the sea; I have seen Paris, where cats’ eyes watch from attic windows the little lives of mortals, just as gods do; I have seen London, where quiet thoughts of inner lives brush against the frocks of children on boardwalks by the Thames. I have seen… I have seen… All these worlds of possible happiness, all of them I have seen through flashes of sun and lightning through the windows of the soul. These worlds call to me, ask me to endow them with reality. “I will,” I whisper, “I promise, I will.”