If my light should fade

If my light should fade tonight I will miss the little versions of us and the improvements to the world they will inevitably make, their silliness, their growth from nothing to everything. I will miss the long trail of creative genius that I've marveled in for decades The music from Bach to Waits, Guthrie to Jungle. That feeling of being home with notes, melody, rhythm swirling and soothing me to my very core, the warm glow of connection to people I don't know. I will miss the quarry of thoughts and dreams in the heart of a book. The dazzling and pretty language of Joyce, the brutal romance of Rimbaud, screams of love from the gutter. I will miss the terror that comes from looking at Goya, or a Carvaggio. A nightmarish image from the shadows of our soul. The psychedelic landscapes of Turner or the blurry beauty of monet, not crystal clear but a perfect vision. I will miss the cool soothing breeze, the earth on my feet, the raindrops on my face. I will miss her kisses, her perfect soft skin, our connecting eyes, her touch on my arm, her voice saying sweetheart. I will miss our love I will miss observing acts of humanity, kindness and compassion, truth tellers and relentless seekers of justice. I will miss the earth, the sky, the stars, and all those places we will never reach. I will miss life and all its bull, pain, joy and beauty.