How many words can you fit in a lifetime to sound off the passions that sparkle your gist, mixed up with trite rantings and nudgings and short hands and typed on the back of a grocery list?
How many a dream meant to wind up unfinished resides in a hundred and forty or less, with vibrancy leaping from psyche to psyche, an echo of echo of echo's reflex.
You send inspiration in form of a query, a half written sentence whose catchy refrain is shared by your circle of friends and delivered for open discussion in public domain.
It follows surprising elaborate pathways through people appending astonishing parts, and ends up full circle adorning your email in fashion and viewpoints you can't recognize.
May all of your insights be granted fulfillment and all of your talents be fully achieved, may you be surrounded by love like a mantle and long standing friendships and boisterous kids.
And all of the fragments and pieces of being you sprinkle like glittery dust on the cloud become the foundation, the structure, the step stones that take you beyond limitation and lack.
