I feel terrible for people without empathy or compassion,

and I blame their state on a lack of imagination.

For who, having spent a few moments considering the plight of another-

the trek of the immigrant,

fear of the abused,

or hunger of the homeless,

can turn their eyes or remain hard-hearted?

And no. We are not to serve their fears and failures,

but we can empathize with those controlled by them.

For each of us was or is manipulated by some horror or regret.

I imagine we are all facing one hurdle or another.

Fortunately, imagination is not required to love.

In fact, proper perfect love is not about what is deserved or needed.

Perfect love exists because the person exists.

And nothing else matters.