Once upon a time there was a world looking for the greatest treasure known to man.
Explorers risked their lives looking for it.
Kingdoms fell in attempts at conquesting it.
Prisoners and priests both longed for it so that the hole in their hearts would no longer bleed out in pain.
Men lost and found it.
Women lost and found it.
If you watch the children playing, you follow their innocuous gazes and know that they can see it.
Many have died for it.
Others have held the belief that pure sacrifice is the only way to keep it.
Some look for it in the ending zeros of their salaries, mistaking empty holes for open arms of comfort.
Others think that if they hold tight and clutch it long enough that it will last.
But in their feeble attempts at crushing it in a cage made out of their hand, they find, after unrolling one shaky finger after another, nothing.
Nothing but the ache of loss.
We search for love, acceptance, care, another body, a smiling face, a birthday card, a hug, true love, marriage, divorce, salvation, forgiveness, redemption, courage, laughter, promises, love, love, love.
We only find it within one another.
Love, that is, the greatest treasure on Earth.
An ode to Boston.