when i was a young man words came to me in floods. in fits and spurts, blind rages and moments of sublime ecstasy that i tried in vain to capture. tears came in floods too. when i was a little older i couldn't remember where i'd left my keys or my coat or my hat or my home. i was free and i was happy. then there were some very hard years. sometimes i remember but mostly i choose to forget. so much beauty mixed up with so much pain. out of all that somewhere somehow children. a daughter i raised and another i do not know. laughter. struggle. blind stupidity. equally blind hope. so many wrong turns remind me of when my mother used to take me out for long drives and let me play "the getting lost game." i'd get to direct her down as many random turns as i wanted and then she had to find the way home. i had some great adventures and some terrible misadventures out there on the road. before i knew it i'm a grown man. my daughter is becoming a woman. worn down by drama. distracted and discouraged. i had sunk into a comfortable little rut. and then one day the road led me, my love, to you. and now it seems that all those wrong turns and all those terrible misadventures were just a necessary part of the journey and this is the destination. a new road begins.