Feeling at a certain loss for words.  Allowing yourself a silence 
to settle in.  Darting cautionary glances.  Afraid of sudden movements 
and unexpected breaks in the atmosphere surrounding this beautiful 
dawning.  Drifting in the space between dream and possibility...
dancing along overlapping brush strokes...spinning into the 
wondrous collision of all that is creation.  Happy on this new day.

Standing outside of yourself and doing your best not to cast 
stones.  Wondering why you tried so hard and for so long to deny 
everything you knew to be true.  Silly boy.  Racing your shadow 
into the depths of your dark sadness.  Where your old friend 
was always waiting -- open arms that held no comfort but always 
managed to remind you of his long-standing invitation.

So what if he never noticed that you were always holding 
that one sure-fire hand close to your vest.  Palming your 
winning card back in those turbulent days of carpet bombing 
border runs -- destruction cornering the market and making 
the headlines turn away in shame.

What can you do to make your stand?  Notify the media.  Spread 
the word.  Take over the airwaves.  Send candy.  Bleed all over 
the sidewalk and hope the message you're leaving gets seen by 
the one set of passing eyes you wish with all of your might you 
could look into once again.  Leave everything you ever held dear 
hanging on your courtyard clothesline.  Dangle your soul out 
in the wind.

Dreams come true.  Take it from someone who knows...who looked 
from his pillow on a rainy day to observe his heart blossoming.  
If you ever find yourself caught out in a storm and the wind 
is howling and the liquid fallout is ripping through your thin 
umbrella and you've given up all hope that miracles really exist, 
then I've got an open chair at my window table.  And I'll spin 
you a yarn that will warm your heart and will embrace your 
deepest yearning.

Drop on by and share a bottle.  Take a load off and hang 
up your penetrated cover.  It won't take long before you 
recognize the drenched fabric and wind-beaten features.  And 
you'll understand that miracles prefer to visit during the 
hidden hours, arriving at the point of no return...presenting 
themselves in humble terms -- building to the chorus and 
leaving nothing behind.

That's how it happens.  

Setting all the caged beliefs free.  Staring into the 
center of everything.  Sitting on the edge of eternity, 
on some front-deck porch swing, gazing into the oblivion 
that holds so many cast away hopes, held in heavenly 
suspension.  Drawing mad patterns and connecting the dots 
that only seem to clarify your determination.  Some things 
were never meant to be escaped from.  Some moments were 
written in the stars...for you to settle within.  Brilliant 
illuminations created before any ancestral thoughts...existing 
beyond all the days you could imagine...held before you on 
this night to remind you of just how magic love can be. 
Seeing again.  For the first time.  For all time.

Forgive me if I indulge in a bit of silence.  Words were 
never made to do justice to truth.  And I'm not in the 
mood right now to cast reflections -- too busy courting 
the one truth I'll never allow to be forgotten.  Ever again.