the living dream phase

I really hope to see you randomly in the streets, to meet you there in the sun or the shade, the rain or the glade, by the fence or the tree, the lamppost or newsstand, you and me once again have a chance at a life, a stopping of time. I am only fortunate because I believe myself fortunate, and it would be a great misfortune if I did not. I only love you by showing my love to you, but who says you cannot show your love in a thought or a prayer? Life gets more confusing and then I stop thinking, let something else take over, less abstract and more concrete (perhaps right under our feet), there need be no confusion so long as if or when the moment arrives on the tangent of our lives on the streets of this city, we see one another in that random beautiful way and connect in that semi comfortable way of matching up against the small changes in our separate and recent fortunes, and what I can do at that time, if that time were to arrive, is turn my attention and presence to you completely, perhaps with a smile - definitive in the eyes - and listen when you speak and not interrupt and not let the magic dissipate by any technological device in my possession (calling to us like they will), but rather undivide my attention toward you and if the chance arises for a handshake or a hug, choose the latter, for who on this dying earth does not wish for the physical rapport? - some great reassurance in a small gesture - and though we may go on our ways off the tangent back on queue, and though I may depart without any certainty I will see you, I can thank you for your time in one of many different ways, and show clearly how I care, burning through the haze... the living dream phase.