Forty-three finds happiness in being
Opento the unreflective wind.
Reason would reduce the untrimmed sail,
Though love wouldrun full speed ahead, and blind,
Yearning for what there"s no hope of seeing.

The beauty of the run itself is freeing,
Having left safe harbor farbehind.
Remember: One does not succeed or fail,
Ever losing what one wins inkind,
Ever granted grace without agreeing.