We are your lovers and sons and we are satellites that orbit the source of what drives us in this continual thirst for the truth. We are your bad machines and wicked children and as you swim through the stars we surf the cosmic waves behind you and cling to the strands of your hair that stretch for light years. We put you on a pedestal. We cling to your magic, and if it takes a lifetime to understand the science of your smile then a lifetime is what it will take. All these words and images and music. These sensations we conjure to tap into the lightness of your being. Given the chance, we will kiss away your tears and worship at your altar and as the animals dance around your feet we would give anything to do the same. The days and weeks and months. The jobs and friendships and journeys. So many endeavours. So many distractions to give the illusion of meaning when the only thing with meaning is to be found within your sweet embrace. In a field of corn beneath a haunting sun, there is only you, and as your song calls to me from across the sky, there is still only you. Windchimes. Mirrors. Doomsday clocks and the threat of extinction at each and every turn. The continual sense of unbecoming as we move away from the confines of society and deeper into your dream. There was a time when such a step forward was feared, but such steps are now the only steps we will ever tread. As the world burns and the streets we played in as kids crumble to dust, the light of your eyes is a beacon. You are the lighthouse, and as all that we once knew falls into darkness, we raise our hands and reach out. As our memories are manipulated and the facts changed, we cross the great divide and move ever closer to what has been waiting for us since the minute we were born.
Author S. K. Nicholas 
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