Twas a wry grin and a sparkling set of starry eyes the blue moon wore this night, for he had stumbled upon one of us, and he knew how rare and special we had become. with the dystopian rants of catastrophistic scoundrels cluttering up our minds, it hasn’t been easy to find a clear head space where we could continue to perceive our lives as being spent suspended over a lake-sized wishing well with our pockets stuffed with actionable coins… but we have and we do. our hopeful outlook has not provided us with perfect journeys through our lives – far from it – but it has gifted us “militant optimists” with a path that is more than worthy of travelling, and for that we are militantly grateful.
