Light battle

you asked me, how did you feel when I died? I cried a lot, I said. And I was mad you didn't fight harder-, not against me, but against time, frailty, disease. I thought you would stay, longer, for me. I don't know how you move through time and space. clearly, the laws of gravity and of the mundane, the heavy burden of sameness and blah, the unmistakable stench of conformity are extinct on your planet. but I see the universal idea of unmistakable beauty, perhaps in Helen's mold, where the reason one looks away from Helen is to catch one's breath, to mutter oh my word! to shake the man or woman standing beside, to quietly shout did you see? how do you have unlimited beauty in every aspect of your being? and I see it is not your burden but mine. so rare in these parts so rare