“I know where Joy comes from. Joy comes from longing and expectation and dreaming.”

—

-Dr. John M. Perkins

Joy comes from longing. That’s true.

True like dating for 5 years and 152 days and putting on a white dress and seeing the tuxed guy at the end of the long aisle and giggling so much you worry people might stare.

True like a dirty, fading sign in the yard of an empty house finally pulled from the earth.

True like a baby on your chest, slimy and crying, outside not inside, holdable.

True like a trumpet loud and sharp, clouds parting, light pouring. Cinematic but not like the movies at all, the dead climb from coffins and the living take flight.