When I’ve fallen from the path:

Remind me that the cavalry is merely gathering

Strength – in numbers – to find me in their best

Spirits.

Draw me water from the river, but don’t call the boats.They don’t have time. They’re running late. They have mouths to feed, women to love. Dogs to catch. Games to play. Kings to please. Coffers to fill. Gods to appease, and coffins to fill.

I’ll be here. Curled up in snow banks of destiny and revenge and love that never made it into the memoir. For Christ’s sake, I will unravel when I want to unravel.The sweater of my conscience is too warm and I must shed it.

On second thought, dear friend,

Don’t send help.