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.