When you ride with me I do not 
see the wood stork nearby standing.
If the mockingbird has spoken, it
is only to himself in whispers.
Nor do I hear the sound of tires
waxing pavement or feel the
vertigo of sudden turning.

When you ride with me I am a
sudden smile, lost in the purple
aura of your presence. I would
not trade you for the scent of
newborn babies or the taste
of gentle rain upon the tongue.

Yes, when you ride with me you
might suggest a certain turn, a
better direction, but you never
take the wheel. I am the driver.
This is my trip. You are my
guileless guide, on heavenly loan.

When you ride with me you are
the fountainhead of boundless joy,
the springboard to the eternal ocean.

Oh, when you ride with me I am
suddenly so much more than myself!

When you ride with me (it could not
have escaped your notice) I am much
more devout than clever, my brother.