By the will to travel I walk the thinnest lines. I will risk all safety for the chance to claim the rare and hidden intricacies of love and all the fear invented in the process. Having set abroad, I deny myself the protection of conventional wisdom. The noise of regret dampens the memory of a suggestive mind. More vacant by its effect, an aloof bemusement consumes all I think could have been. In reality this superfluous deprecation erodes a useful existence.
No sentient life breaths free in the vacuous spaces that disconnect heart from hand.
Very few of us stand alone with the luxury of time. As others tenderly suffer the sacrifices we submit, they wait for the return of their sweet companion.
In the oceanic eyes of a patient child I am saved. This power drew me from the brink. I must honor her selflessness. She permits what I myself would not endure, a chance to return home.
There is, within us all, a need for the respite of family. They blunt the sharper edges of life's turmoil, forgiving what others cannot. They take us in tattered and threadbare, victims of our own natures. The kindest cut of all, they stroke our lowly heads when bowed in the salty mist of hindsight. Here in a passing instant I find reason to remember what once I found redeemable in myself. Blessed by circumstance, I lay again beside the morning window anew with the gratitude of homecoming.
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