God, these are my
thanks,
whispered so no one else will hear
and launched into
the vasty Black
like a love-bladed boomerang.
I read it all,
you know, the Book,
both paper and sinew,
and understand the
origin of things.
It all comes from you, apparently, so
here:
Thanks for the genius
that cushions my solitude;
for
the sometime intrusion of others
who share this strange space;
for
the brother who learned to be fearless;
for the thrum of home
beneath my feet;
for this family, better than the last;
and
for the Captain's fierce love
that keeps us aloft.
