Too many miles to say what should have already been spoken. Awoken to the smiles, only memories long ago cast aside. Creating universes where my luck is never broken and wishes melt under clouds that warm the afternoon mood.

Too long a dupe. Dependent on pride or an unqualified imagination. Cheered up by thinking of someone else sitting by this poolside, enjoying the rays and spray as children frolic in the shallows. Oh what relief to sorrow that things are this brightly arrayed.

Joy to meet the brigands and the folly, dressed in amber hues to coax the suspect to obedient. What elevated thoughts these expressions of valor and collusion. Sacrificing the nonsense spent on reflection for the stark contrast of changing heart.

Too few the august moments of tepid relief and air hinting of the cinnamon crispness of mornings well-wept. Sweeping under the mind’s firmament any respect for time and chance, relegating all power, passion and prayerful extension to restoration.

Too soon for promised redemption, too late to escape the leeching tides mooring me to quickly to reason and wishes of better luck. Times passed express the futility of fantasy and the small, timid kiss of childlike expression.

Too many steps to a dance well beyond my keeping in times that twist more than waiting ankle. This is always the game of who cuts deepest and first knowing there is no recovery from the cruelty of well equipped anguish.

Joy so plenty, chalice full at last toasting. We see the ghosted and the temple’s grey to remind us that someone was taken from the battle’s field. Whether we liked it or not the maneuvering and candor are displayed for good upon the brows and elbows.

What is Spirit’s pleasure having led this man again to put down the script of young man’s venture. Everlasting it echos in the increasing depth of memory and master. Look again, now in the tempered glass eyes of a man who knows the absolute Joy of decision.