It's been over three weeks now since we first set sail on the Glory ship wondering if we were flying sky-high or simply becoming one with the sea.

We kept seeking out light rays because the rains kept hovering and it's common knowledge that darkness is only the absence of light.  

There was this lady in the Bahamas, scrubbing toilets, humming soulful, bringing her joy bright into the midst of the grungy.  We invaded her home island and made work for her to do, and at the end of the day she was still singing.  She was my little bit of glory-full right there without even knowing.  

On the blue cobbled streets of San Juan, we found shelter from the heaviest of rains in an oldest of cathedrals.  Candles burning bright, stained glass masterpieces glowing sacred,  and centuries old fortresses standing firm all around us.

And then when wandering those beaches, the ones with the icing sugar sand, we kept finding these unexpected treasures brought on by the incessant waters.   The horizon never ceased, growing wider and grander, and we kept clinging on to all this glory.

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
          The earth, and every common sight,
                    To me did seem
                  Apparelled in celestial light,
          The glory and the freshness of a dream.  ~ William Wordsworth