The incense is burning. The candles are glowing. Music fills the air. And the song I sing is of you.

I lift my voice to the heavens and thank the gods that you are my friend. Not only my friend, but my hero. There are too few heroes in this life. So I sing of the gladness that lives within me because you are a part of my reality.

I sing of color. Of blues and greens and reds and yellows. Of deep crimsons and brilliant golds. Lavenders and purples. Of all the colors of the rainbow and more. I sing of words ... words lovingly arranged and colorfully crafted, each stroke of the pen a work of art. I sing of Route 66. Of red and white '57 Chevy two-door hardtops.

I sing of understanding. Of tolerance and compassion. Of respect for life in all its diverse forms. I sing of holes in the earth. Of Cybir and Eos. I sing of allowing life to happen according to its own nature and at its own direction. Of encouraging life to be itself. Of giving it what it needs to do that.

I sing of imagination. Fiery, volatile, powerful imagination. And intuition. Uncanny intuition that knows no limitations. I sing of shrines and temples. Of monuments to the past, of prayers for the future. Of brotherhood. Of walking through the fiery furnace of life and emerging victorious on the other side. I sing of the Phoenix. Of the eagle and the dove.

I sing of days lost, nights unending; of isolation and pain. Of dark fears and haunting desires. I sing of the underbelly of life, the darkest corners and deepest crevices where most fear to tread. I sing of a soul who finally feels at home there and quakes no longer. I sing of mountains to climb, valleys to tread, treasures to discover. Of jewels, bright, precious and shiny, such as the one I see in you.

I sing of lucky stars. Not only the one you were born under, but the one that shone down on you recently. That big bright one in the southeast hanging off the lip of the moon. I sing of the star that was shining on me the day I found you. I sing of the 8th House. And the 2nd, as well.

I sing of silence. A precious commodity in this bustling world. I sing of knowing when silence is the key. Of delivering it with ease and comfort. I sing of laughter and sarcasm and cynicism and honesty. Unwavering honesty. I sing of truth. Of loyalty. Of thoughts shared and questions raised. I sing of the Quest ... the never-ending Quest. Of Holy Grails. And of Spoons.

I sing of great silver birds; how they take wing and fly when you wish they'd stay a season longer. I sing of tiny birds with funny tail feathers. Of red birds with black faces. Of squirrels. Of snakes. Of forests deep and rivers wide.

I sing of you.