"What is the point?” She asks me. Questions
shimmer behind her dark blue eyes. They remind
me of a Tennessee river bed. I breathe in deeply.
The smell of pine overwhelms my senses.
I know by the quiver in her voice that she is
asking about something so much deeper than
the point of us. The point of this. Something
far more complicated than most care to comprehend.
She is asking about life. The very reason
for our being. She wants to know why she exists.
I am still far to young to have all of the answers,
But I tell her what I know to be true.
“The point is to improve. To create yourself,
and leave the world around you better than
you found it. And love… like it’s the last thing
in the world that you will ever do. “
She takes it all in. It sounds so easy when you
say it with confidence, but she knows by my
lack of affection and fleeting glances that
sometimes things really are easier said than done.