Crashbox

We made it in thirty-nine hours. The last great road trip in the long and hair-brained adventures of a strange and enviable duo; based in unshakable friendship, California bred, highway fed, and thirsting for all that is romantic and GOOD. Thousands of miles of desert, mountains, rivers, cities, things we had never seen all in a few brief days: this has always been our way. From here we go on to new lives---to the next great things...I am taking on the rain and mist of a seductive Northwest city; he is taking over the world of shopping carts. I possess and am possessed, by a sunbeam through the clouds, a rich moon through the trees, the endless laughter of an angel among the patchwork folds. A levy broke in my soul and what pours out now will flood the plain of God's wise choice, and nothing will ever be the same. And though we are home now, I am not here. The faces I saw and the places that spoke still whisper of songs sung in private, of smiles only felt, of souls that were buried but awaken. Let me live for this. Let these arms never loose their grasp. Let the tires whine across the asphalt forever, carrying me to the Falls at the Edge of the World.