Good Things

heavenly bodies, confound the weary eyes of the journey worn man

Like a corpse come to life, or the sun out at night

like an indoor rainstorm

In the wake of what was, and what is, he dares to rise to the challenge..

back scabbed, and battered from the lash of reason..

to create a little magic. To defy the expected.

this is at the crux of his journey.

To will good things into being,

and hold them there indefinitely.