Your poems and songs will fill the heavens, the stars will dance, and I will be listening. And watching.

and finally,

TO ME:

Excerpt from Michael Connelly’s novel, The Last Coyote:

“Stop beating yourself to death with it,” she said. “The past is like a club and you can only hit yourself in the head with it so many times before there is serious and permanent damage. I think you’re at your limit. For what it’s worth, I think you are a good and clean and ultimately kind man. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t ruin what you have, what you are, with this kind of thinking.”

My heart breaks and then the pieces smash together and form wide-opened eyes and in seconds I can see my path,

Forward.