The long, hard road concedes no place for rest,

and cold, dark winds allow no time to pause,

so on, headlong, we plunge toward the west.

The sharp turns, slick with ice, extend their claws

to rake the highway free of we who yearn

too much to see the miles between us fade.

The dreary hours cause sleepy eyes to burn

and weary minds to conjure thoughts half made.

But through the mist you shine, the way torch-

lit towers called the sea-tossed ships to shore,

the way uneasy parents leave the porch

light on to greet their children at the door.

…. Seen through our hearts, you are a beacon bright,

…. a welcome home, a refuge from the night.