I must preach for the Original Trek. One vulcanized glory of three seasons that brought our world to the day of today. I must preach of the Trek pre Next generation. The writing of Gene. The fighter pilot Gene. The hero and penmaster all in one. The glory of the beeps and the boops and the long earring hoops. The vision of a future where green and brown meant nothing around town where pause and silence only meant causes for preposition and acquisition of new thought and new breath to breathe…
The pointed ears and the spirited years of what they could only fear would never be near but it came along with it throngs of what could and couldn’t belong no I could never be wrong even without punctuation I am free as a nation of one person one conscience under one God of precaution I don’t care where it posts I am now just the host of the ramblings that come from behind infront and above.
I'm glad it was only Three. It was all it needed. Fascinating Captain you captured the world in a snow globe and shook it up and still live to tell how we can always be well, how we can love truthfully. Thankfully. Fanboys existed and long persisted of live long and prospers and force be with you after the glory days we still gaze to the stars and wonder will we ever tell of the day when we took the rocket past the haze of the wrongs we have made to each other to the world, but more to ourselves. Be it ever so well, may we long live to tell of the spell that casts upon us when we look to the strongest when we seek for what’s always been right next to us within us around us and near us. Steady as she goes I hope for the best.
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