At the peak of a view, pinnacle seat, what will you see? Will it be the ANSWER, will it be final peace? Maybe. But then again, maybe it will be a black painted window, a view clouded over like perplexion. Maybe a gift will be shown, maybe a clearing of gifts, wrapped from your birth, waiting to be unveiled. Maybe country music will whistle in a quiet slumber, basted with a glaze of glory, snoozing on hammocks of slumber.
She IS the queen, as if royalty bowed to her. She is a state, like Arizona or Oklahoma - she has a democracy and a verdict. She is ultimate and omniscient. She'll not let you suffer, she'll not be abstract. She'll give all answers in Van Morrison-esque song, 70's and filled with simplicity. I'll give up 100 Red Wings games if it means one day with her. I'll give up insecurity, jealousy and obsession, if I can have one kiss, one moment of her eyes finding me. Will she understand my intention?
I'd split my life for her, half learning and half worship - let me learn her ways, then bow. A program easy to surrender to. Where is she?