Thankful for this radiant heart. Grateful for each trial, each soul engraved on spirit’s memory. All have been worth it, teaching, tugging, changing and providing opportunity upon pregnant moments. None of you will be forgotten, especially those who took their turns seriously, transmogrifying my topography, outlook and tomorrow.

Gypsies all headed somewhere beyond this present. None were meant to stay because this station’s gone to passing. Visitors, some convinced that they will beat the harbor master, sailing vessels beyond the blinded seas into unknown days of event horizon. But we all knew from beginning that this is a one way ride.

I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but for that wretched pain I am indebted, Teaching me that Divine love never leaves our ship’s lurching. Walked on the waves towards His waiting smile never once feeling or regretting the trials I had yet facing or days gone bye that got the best of most of us.

Mitts the size of madness, grasping desperately at controls for which their is no manual. Speeding up or slowing down to take curves and hills as if hell has no prisoners. We will walk away from the bombs that you’ve been setting. For the mooring saints have driven goes deep enough to find the Rock.

Sand and passing pleasure measure the moments that shall be forgotten. Like youth they pass away almost unnoticed until the bones goes creaking and the lusts lose pleasure. Conquering ourselves instead seeking dominion in this world. We sought to hear once more the tales of love and unrequited dream.

But this too was so caustic it left marks deeper than the mantle. Looking inside only smoke but something lived beyond the fire’s reach. And I am forever grateful for the push and wind to sail forcing me on to midnight crossing in reaching twilight’s left to wonder and mountains beyond the making.

We too Loved and left our thoughts and hopes on the field of battle but the war was won before we even fought it. There is no shame but the one for not trying, crying tears thick enough to stop my footfalls upon the skinny path to oceans of glass, crimson and singularity. Where everything goes onward. Tally Ho.