May the vast and endless heavens above,  
In their infinite wisdom, surround you with love,  
Bestowing upon you blessings most rare,  
That fill your days with joy and care.  

May victory’s glow, like the dawn’s first light,  
Lift your spirit to exquisite height,  
And harmony, with its gentle sway,  
Guide your steps, come what may.  

May peace, like a river calm and deep,  
Flow through your soul, and softly keep  
Your heart at rest, free from dismay,  
As wisdom whispers, lighting your way.  

May laughter, like raindrops in the spring,  
Dance upon you, and joyfully sing,  
And love’s warm embrace, tender and true,  
Wrap you in beauty, ever new.  

May hope, like the morning’s golden gleam,  
Fill your days with each passing dream,  
Turning each moment to something bright,  
As the stars above keep you in light.  

May the garden of love, radiant and fair,  
Bloom with colours beyond compare,  
Its fragrance, divine, in every breeze,  
Carrying with it a life of ease.  

May courage, like a flame, steady and bright,  
Guide you through dark and uncertain night,  
And joy, like the sun, rise high and clear,  
Filling your heart with warmth, my dear.  

For this soul, in humble reverence, prays,  
That your path be blessed through all your days.  
A Happy New Year, with love to inspire,  
And the stars above lifting you higher.

We are of science,
You and I

Paint and brush
Pen and paper
Lute and sweet tenor,

We favored these
In the tender,
candy-flavored blush of springtime
When we were artists
And marvelous color trailed in our wake and pooled in our footsteps,

Ecstatic synesthesia
decorating the early hours of our
long day’s journey into night.

But we.

We are of science,
You and I

Excavators and archeologists in sacred pursuit,
Brushing the earth from a shard swept into the depths,
Ah, see, here is treasure
Here is proof.

Turn yourself inside out for me
That I may count your rings
Remove your backing
That I may marvel at your machinery

If this love is a song
It is also a tree
- roots and seeds
It is also a pocket watch
- sturdy and intentional
It is also a gravesite
- stardust and mosaics of broken bones,
patient,
silent,
Awaiting the hands of an artist to
knit them back together.

But we.

We are of science,
You and I.

Paint and brush
Pen and paper
Lute and sweet tenor,
We favored these
When we were artists.

Ah, see.

Here is treasure.
Here is proof.

The engine idles softly from the comfort of this dusky parking lot as I
Wait
Half-heartedly dreading your arrival.

It’s not your fault.
I was raised in parking lots,
Fed up on exhaust, leather interior, errant crumbs.
This pausing of time is
A rare delicacy, and I savor it:
The pleasant lightness of the air combined with the gentle purr of the motor,
The dashboard lights festive and flashing

Red
Yellow
Green

The traffic busies by me,
it’s really picking up now.
Each car a microcosm,
Each a cocoon
A universe
An ecosystem,
And me, a fly on the wall for this single moment of this single journey,
Undetected and undetectable in my own private Idaho.

I do some make up to pass the time.
My skin looks perfect in the glowing mirror light.
I take a breath.
It’s the first one in days.

I bought the legos you promised you’d build with me years ago.
Laying in the dark of your room, we promised it would be our first big set.
Built together.

I will leave the last piece off, incase you ever wish to fulfill that promise.