I wish to turn around and return (to her warmth and laughter), but this calling is strong, and denial is impossible.nNo measure of weight can justify what now presses into my chest.nTo the road, your freedom is awesome, but does it compare to the sweet embrace of my love?nOur convictions engraved by her marvelous hands.nMy ears are upon the brink of detonation, and the mud amongst the passage of my throat is drying to permanence.nHarvest the crop of memories.nTo what's true, I offer thanks.nI've found what's pure and I've found what's sweet.nWe are not barren