To me, my love, the faces you show the world, shrouds with façades of openness & curiosity, of longing, of honesty, of loyalty, & of reliability, are like picture postcards of a beautiful little castle when it was recently-built; one that since then has suffered hurricane & flood.

Now mud fills the lower corridors, and it cakes the beautiful furnishings, and although the building stands tall & sturdy, a second era of grandeur won't come easy, may even strike as impossible.

Many things & places within and without will have to be delicately cleaned & renewed, some will have to be pumped clear & power-washed. Much will require renovation; or if not, then extensive reconstruction, to reconstitute stone-laid structures become piles of debris.

But gradually, the muck & mire, the deception & mistrust, the frustration & rage, the tiredness & reticence, the self-doubt, the perceived limitations... all will give way to the proud aspect, once again rising in beauty & power before the bright sky.

In my mind's eye, I am already there, beyond the ramparts, at the outer courtyard of a great hall. I will turn the dried mud over to soil, and anxiously set at their stakes my saplings Patience, Example, Kindness, Humor, Music, Justice, & Love. I will be here in the garden, growing these parts of me, for you; if your earth accepts them. I will hope for roots that hold us firm through many storms to come.

—Ethan Miguel Serkey