I have more then enough fuel for this trip
so I'll enjoy the climb out, afterburners alight.
The lights of the Canaries twinkling to the South West.
I should never have been here.
Here, in Baal-Peor.
Haunted by the wondrous scents of Solomons downfall.
The blood of Phinehas courses through me!
What else should I have wanted?
What else could I have needed?
My truest love, an anchor in reality and eternity
The provider of what's timely and needful,
Let the set of my brow not waver.
Know this, fellow wrestlers, that I am yet uncommitted.
Having not known, I still hoped that she would see as did Ruth
And still do even now
But I will not give chase!
Only bits of data, as seeds towards a future germination, should it occur.
A hopeful blossom sprouting from good ground,
born for the endeavor.
So let's let the engines sing
and head downhill
Those small lights out there on the water:
vessels full of souls that will only hear
as we blast Red Route 1 just over the water
Southward to the West Indies
Where I am placed by the kind hands of my truest love.