. . . And all that time, Passenger rode along inside of you. I didn't even know where we were going, exactly, but somehow we made it, led on by the flickering ghosts of oakbeams, freight-trains, dark creeks and blue herons, and never forget the cedar roots, to what I thought was the impossible home.       So here we are, in a kind of happy ass afterlife, with pastures to graze and sycamore shade and a looming barndark to be born and suckle and take shelter in. I asked the world for an answer, to a question I could never quite articulate. Our wandering became that question, and the answer that you taught me to find in the pulse of every moment was Yes. That Yes is you. Before you and Passenger came along, I was a little uncertain of the power of imagination, until we walked it down, hunting the slow bones of places folded up in time.       There are no rings to exchange here, just the hope that these promises will ring true, now and into the future.  Karin and Aliass will now exchange vows again, and give new incarnation to one of the oldest living covenants there is, which is the one between human imagination and the secrets of all beings hidden in their skins, and in the dirt and clouds. Please echo after me: I, Karin Bolender, vow to take this American Spotted Ass, Aliass Crossbone of Carcassonne, as both flesh and blood companion and fictive muse. (repeat) I will always seek to harmonize my acts and voice with your needs and silences, and honor your ways of knowing the world that are other than mine, (repeat) I promise to honor the illumination and peace of ass we've found in the afterlife of our mission, and hold fast to the past and future of every word. I will honor and protect all that's hidden behind the heart-shaped breastplate. I will always seek a language and gesture that orbits the big-eared mysteries of listening presence and desert distance in which your knowing silence hums. (repeat) With these here vows, I wed thee. Aliass, please echo after me: I, Aliass Crossbone of Carcassonne, (silent ass) promise to stay true to my rough-furred, blinking, softly breathing, inscrutable donkeyness, to what I do and to what I know, and also to the mysteries and memories hidden behind the heart-shaped breastplate. (silent ass) With these here silences, I wed thee. Now, with the power vested in me by the hoot owl and the human tongue, I now pronounce you wedded companions in the search for matrimonial assonance. Karin Bolender, you may now kiss your ass. Aliass Crossbone, you may now eat the grass.