Suddenly, the rosebushes are all in bloom,
covered in enormous, extravagant roses,
and it is as if I have never seen light before,
the way it illuminates each leaf and petal.
They look almost unnatural, otherworldly.
The miniature green peaches on the peach tree
are doubling and redoubling in size and number;
I stop counting when I get to one hundred.
On Sunday afternoon, we decide to walk
in a new direction, on an endless hiking path.
I am exhausted by the time we reach the top
of the dusty hill and look down, where I expect
the grim path to continue indefinitely in front of us.
Instead, there is a wide reservoir,
glistening in the sunlight, surrounded by a grove
of trees, and on a faraway path along the shore,
a father and his daughter riding their bikes. Further still,
a little boy, holding the string of a distant red kite.
I’ve waited so long for you. Months, then years. It’s necessary
to study you, to take note of each new line and gesture,
everything that still makes you laugh. But now, here, I find
that the sky is so blue and the water so bright. I don’t want
to leave anything unsaid, but we are both rendered speechless
by the sight of this body of water, by the incomprehensible extent
of beauty in the world. Looking out at it, I can believe,
for a moment, that this time, you might be able to stay.