Most things don’t matter in retrospect. People. Wishes, hopes and expectations are electives. There is no end to a man that hungers for forever. Keeping it in reserve is great, pragmatic, until the car breaks down and fuel festers.

The end feels like the beginning. Agitation. Promises must be reviewed in their keeping. Are you nervous about the test you must take whether passed or otherwise? Remember, life lived in abundance demands some measure of failure.

Looking, East for weather and signs of movement. Transformed, blown by the breezes of passions beyond my own admonition. It heals and no one knows the restoration until limbs employed. Seeking wisdom where none has been found.

Use it and find peace in the sighs of expiration. Fumes, tombs and brooms, all blown away by the hand of time. There is nothing but love which extends a heart to eternity. In the quiet words, adoration lingers. Touching tomorrow’s edge.

Not what it or I once was. Remembering the pulled teeth of my own resistance without condemnation. Into the next day I wondered, plundered and bumbled. Tossing about grand swelling words hoping to change the tides of my fate.

One seeks home, whether in the weeds and blood of battle or the calm smooth waters of the garden pond. These are the days for which we prepared and lingered. Finding the rough pebbles touch memories of a world that came to pass.