There is a brick wall....
It has increased in size over the years. I tend to re-arrange it every so often.
Sometimes the wall is really high, but narrow. Some people have noticed that they can peer around the sides of it, see what is happening, say hello, stretch out a hand.
Sometimes the wall is low, but wide. Some people have figured out that they can look over it, wave, give advice, smile.
Sometimes the wall is wide and high, but has small gaps and spaces in it. Some people have managed to sit close to the gaps, talk, hold my hand, be there. Some people have attempted to put more than a hand through the wall.
Sometimes the gaps are big enough for people to see right through, not enter, but see.
Sometimes I give a brick to someone. I give a brick to someone when I know they will look after it, treasure it, keep it close. That they will never throw it away, that it means as much to them as it does to me.
That's pretty rare.
Sometimes I really want to give the bricks to someone. But I am unsure about how they will be treated. If the bricks are lost, broken or damaged, then how can I go about finding them again, to repair them and put them back.
I want to give someone all the bricks that make my wall.... I want to know every single brick is as precious to them as it is to me.
I want to give someone my bricks one by one, until eventually they have them all, and there is no wall left.
I don't want them to build their own wall with the bricks. I don't want to have to build a wall again either.
I want the bricks to make a path instead. A joint one. Leading in the same direction, being shared.
I don't want to know where the path is going, but that it's wide enough for both of us. That it is long, that it is filled with happiness, joy and understanding.
That it won't be destroyed. That a wall cannot be built from it again.
I don't think I am asking too much. I believe it will happen. One day.