... do we all sail.
If Love be a turbulent sea of storm-tossed waves and dark, low-hanging clouds wreathed in the sharp daggers of lightning and banks of rolling, rumbling thunder, then the ones whom we love are islands of calm in the tumult and their open arms safe harbours to wait out the passing storms.
While those that mean us harm are akin to jagged rocks lying just beneath the surface, awaiting their chance to dash the ships of our journey upon their deadly teeth, to consign us to the gloomy depths of misery and sorrow.
Be not the dangerous rocks, my friends.
Be the islands of calm.
LDSH
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