O Captain! My Captain!

Every day is an adventure—it's your story. The day unfolds how you see fit. It does this because you are the writer—you are bold, you are strong, you are kind and you are gentle. You are the writer—you are the captain.

Put wildflowers along the decks and destroy the stop button on that ol' record player. Fall back. Order your comrades to do the same, order them to fall back. Order them to take in that endless ocean before them, order them to take it in.

Now breathe, breathe, breathe—it's all yours.

Vintage (Rearranging the Stars)

It’s funny, a star missing its step, forgetting its part in the night, constellating incorrectly. And yet it still feels so utterly complete as I trace its passage across the sky. I examine its patterns, the mother bear and her son and charming little Venus. I begin to laugh. I begin to laugh at all this. I bite my fingers and lick the silver from the cut. I think about the planets orbiting one another, aligning themselves to their own rhythms, as I sway to mine. And I am satisfied when we undulate in unison, and I am more courageous with each sway and I am more merry until I come apart. My shame putters toward the light crowning the cluster. And what was once funny is now holy until a new star misses its step, forgets its part in the night, constellates incorrectly.