When you can see the Sun rise you are already there.

When your eyes are widened what you see is brilliant.

The reflection, the vision, the sight of what is within reach

To what tomorrow can become is something to each

When you need a drink, the river is ready for your thrist

When you are close to the ends, the waters are there to revive

Just as you can follow its course, yours in within reach.

To which your frution can be more relieved when you find your peace.

When you're able to stop upon reaching the city

When you're ready to continue, you must be vigilant.

So search for the next journey as you must find the next view

Search for the next step to find the next river

It is not out of reach, for you have already arrived

And the journey of a thousand steps are reason enough to confide.

Toast was leaning against the toaster smoking by himself, as he often does. French Toast, a near and dear friend sat by him and asked:

"Toast? What happens when we are gone?"

Toast, unsure of what to say, said, "French, nothing is permanent. I'm not going to be here long. I'll probably be eaten and that will be that."

French got sad, and said, "Toast, we are capable of so much. What can we do to stop this eating madness?"

Toast got up on one part of his crust, looked over the countertops, and said with hope and spendor.

"French, bite after bite, our lives will fade, and we will be but crumbs. But you have to remind yourself that one day, some time from now, those like us will have the same hopes we do."

French smiled and only said, "I want to see tomorrow."

All toast could say was, "You can, French, just hold on to your flavor, if you're good enough. Somebody will want to save you."

French, nodded his head. "I can do that. Toast. I can save myself. I have to."

Toast walked back to the plate and sat down. He stared ahead and thought.

"I'm the end of the loaf, but it feels so good to be alive."

There are days where we are walking alone finding our way home. If you haven't found your way down the road, or over the hills, walking along rivers, lost as to which was to needed go. You might feel like you'll never get there.

But what can you do, where can you go when home is nearer than has been and yet you feel you are so far?

When you can. Slow. When you have a chance. Look ahead. When you have a second. Look behind you. What do you think? What is missing? What do you need the most?

And can you find it? Wisdom is what happens when you go home. And I think you're almost there.

It wasn’t like it all just ended like that.

A lot of things are finished just as quickly as they start.

A hello, a goodbye, a smile, the last thing you ate for dinner that was prepared for hours only to be consumed in minutes.

Some say the good things don’t last long.

But, maybe, just maybe, they can.

It might not be what you first expect.

Taking your time, that is.

Breathing in a freshness of a spring rain,

The moments of quiet that are few and far between.

Things like that.

The clouds part, the sun grows bright.

The winds settle, and there is simply calm.

In spite of everything, you can just stop.

For a minute.

Or for today.

It doesn’t take much.

There’s a reason to rest,

Today might be just the thing for you.

When I'm gone everything gets better.

No one needs someone who doesn't want to live better.

When I'm no where to be found, nowhere to be heard,

Everyone lives as they should

When I'm gone the crazy is gone too

No one needs to know a man who has nothing to give.

When I'm no where to be found, the sun still rises,

The people I know would live the life they deserve

When I'm gone no one will miss me,

No one meantions me, no one wastes their time,

When I'm nowhere, it's as it should have been

I can imagine it already

It makes me want to leave

Because I know I should

I'm a mistake

As I always knew I was

There's nothing more to say.

It's undefinable and complex

No one's is the same

Intelligence some say

Isn't what it really is

Have thoughts, explain

Some think they already are

When nothing was spent

Natural, well read

Just comprehend

What's the best?

Am I smart enough?

Is that what's important?

You simply improve

That's intelligent

There wasn't much happening as I jumped from the skyscraper. No whizzes or whirs of delight. Visions of what I should have had for breakfast or how much was left in the parking meter. I only saw what was rushing toward me, or rather what I was rushing toward.

Life does flash by. Not like dreams or psychedelic awakenings, but this everlasting freedom like after a birthday or a nice night out with friends. The sunrise looked especially beautiful, the pavement just as enticing. I had 4 seconds to make peace with the world, 4 seconds to come to terms with relationships lost, conversations without resolve, and hopes never realized.

I spun around to see my reflection in the windowed scraper. Just like a flip book. One floor after another. There I am. There I go. Here today, a pile of bones later. I could have done better. But did I?

Then it hit me.

Standing above the city, I looked down an envisioned what it would be like to jump. Then I looked over at my family gathering for a photo.

"Get closer, come on!.

I stood in frame, my arms around my family, and then heard,

"Say freefall!"

It was a cold breezy morning. Rain had begun to fall. I had wandered into a village in search of shelter. I sought reprise near the awning a cottage. I stepped back and knocked over a potted plant.

"Who'st arouse my quarters?" I heard a man's voice.

I thought to run but I noticed it to begun to rain beginning to grow stronger.

"No one sir. Sorry to bother," I said weary of who I had troubled.

The door opened and a man of long locks met me.

"My fellow, be'st thy lost? Or might thy seek a shilling? If the later I shall send you away. The former; of what may'st I be of help?"

"Sir, need I take a moment? I have been on travels and this storm precludes me from further advance," I said removing my hat, and messing my hair.

"Travels? Any man set forth on adventure is always welcome, please come in," He said.

He brought me into a study and gave me a glass of ale.

"Thou'st go by the west or east?" He asked sitting down and taking a quill and scribbling something quickly.

"I come from quite a long way sir. A place where I couldn’t find my way.”

"That is a saddest trifle I’ve heard all day and I’ve only just extinguished mine evening’s flame," he said, reaching for a pitcher of ale.

"No sir, I am far from troubled. I am on travels for fortune, but the days have proven lackluster," I said, wondering what was in the beer.

"Luck strikes us many, but for some nary is seen," He shuffled some papers and shot me an eye.

"My works have forced me to abandon purpose. I have sought to begin new life," as a quick buzz came over me.

"The life of labor a noble art. There are many builders looking for strapping lads. Perhaps you could break your back for meager earnings.”

"I'd like to see myself as a seeker of ideas and arts, I think I can contribute great things."

"What can be said, has been said many a time over. Do you think you have something of worth to say? Something which the masses have yet to come across? Are you loiterer of ideas?

"No sir, to the contrary, I lie awake at night with visions of what could be. But with the incessant drive which cannot be fulfilled."

"We all have passions that torment, lad. Days when the sun shines but does not warm. I once was a daydreamer but then I rolled out from my bed and closed the blinds."

"Are you saying that I should give up on what I'm trying to pursue?"

"Dear lad, I know nothing about you, yet judging upon thy'st lost gaze, it occurs to me that no fortune will ever lie upon your eyes. I have composed many a man, described far notions of ideals and whims, yet my slightest discernment tells me to say that I should send you on your meandering way. I am afflicted with my own discourses."

The rain outside began to fall harder.

"Why do you say that sir? I simply thought to seek relief from a trying journey. Not to be berated by a bullock.”

"I have answers for you lad, answers I've learned from years of toil, strife, and failure. In each and every of those trials by fire I learned what is sought is rarely what we truly aspire. Yet the day is full of recourse even when clouds embark.

“Quite a morning to come upon an unnecessary diatribe, I think to find myself out.”

I began to sit up when he sat forward and folded his hands.

“There are still adventures to be won and nights to rest. Even when all you can say is that you met a man on one dreary morning in the village and he told you to dismiss your compass.”

"Sir, I've traveled all my life. Seen town after town, people with hopes never reached and desires only left for the garbage. In all that, what strikes me about ambition is that it's ever fleeting. I can go here. I can go there. Yet I always end up where I am. A better man, perhaps, a wiser man, maybe. A successful man is something which only I can confront when I peer upon my reflection only to be shocked at what I've become or what I have lost."

"Lad, I've an appointment in the shortly. I hope you enjoyed the ale. I suggest you to drink into a stupor when you peer upon thine complexion. It's much easier to live when fortune is also inebriated."

I looked at the base of the glass and noticed pieces of hops.

“I’ve never been a drunkard, sir but I’m always yearning for replete. What was your name?"

"I go by many monikers. You can remember me as Varrius. I could very well have remained silent. you still would be as well off as your are now. Please, let me show you to the door."

I set the pint down and glanced over at his papers. I noticed a title of what looked like a book - Measure for Measure.

"I am unsure of your ambivalence sir, but I do feel this meeting has been ardent. What did you say your profession was?"

"A ne'er-do-well. As we all are. Farewell."

. . .

Get up.

Time to get going.

You've squanded enough.

I can't just sit here.

Can't just allow myself to rot.

It wasn't suppose to turn out this way.

But then everything good goes to shit.

There aren't any excuses to what I could have done to prevent it.

Stir a man.

Shake well.

Drink for tomorrows wasted.

Indulge in some morsels, the cabinet is full.

Smoke it down to the filter, a life of vigor and purpose.

Til, I myself, succumb to the banality of what I have become.

Only in the days when the madness was absent did I think I finnaly found peace.

But what burns cold in the depths.

Burns brighter over the sea.

I cannot rest, lay, or squander.

This madness is just what drives.

Takes time to survive

So you stand your ground

Pop the pills

Get your fill

Wake up the next day to try again.

Madness can be succumed

I wake to let it leave

So I can sit by my tree

And forgot I had madness before.

What would it take to live the life you seek?

What do you think would make you complete?

A life of works?

A life of pleasure?

A life worth remembering?

A life without error?

We go along always hoping for the best

Never realizing what is next

To wake up with a place to go

People to meet

And some reason to live some more

But some sit idle waiting for something to arrive

All the while thinking this is it, at least i tried

So you can wallow at the things never done

The things you thought you wanted but never won

There was a life you thought to seek

But sometimes dreams die because they wont make you complete

So what to do when there seems like there's nothing to attain?

Lay and bed feel the dark skies turn to rain

Arise for days more assured

When success is set to rise

And practicality can be surmised

When what can be done is within reach

There is still time to do things,

There is still time to seek

What would it take for you find something for yourself?

Just get started

for something

for someplace else.