They are the only ones who know me.  I am the only one who know them.  Three little rascals with big heads and snarky attitudes like mine. Three who do not belong anywhere but my house. Three playful boys raised by the water.  From the road, you can hear them, but many just pass by not appreciating their sense of adventure.
Their love is hidden.  They spread their undeniable laughter wherever they go.  They grow and they grow together and see the world through their little blue eyes and reaching for the starts with arms held high and never quitting their fight. This is how they live.

Let no one forget their reason for being, if they’d all drop like a raindrop on concrete, each of them will fall together forever.  Strong, strong, strong they say when I fall.  They preach.

When I am feeling alone and too little to keep going, when I am a minuscule thing against the water, then I look to those rascals.  When there is nothing left to see in the rippling water.  Three who grew with me. Three who adventure and do not forget to dream.  Three whose only reason is to be with me.