As s boy, I skipped along the ginger bread road..As a young man, I traversed along the golden brick road..

In a moment of serendipity..

I looked down.. Examined a golden brick.. Came to realization that it was but a stone painted yellow..

I only went down that path because I was under the impression I was missing something..

I sought to find all that was missing… But the mirror of enchantment insisted I came into fruition in my entirety.. Nothing was ever missing–simply unrealized..

Then who are these teachers who taught me how to live…that taught me what to be and how to be..

Against a tree, I sit, legs crossed–Indian style… Mind floating amongst the clouds..

Walking no longer fits my mood.. I prefer to soar.. 

The clouds have no paths, just open space– to explore…

The clouds form no shape but the shape nature allows, no bounds or restrictions..

I like the clouds, but the clouds is no place for a man to be–at least for no great extent..

Man is of earth, so from the earth man shall receive his fulfillment..

So I’m carving my own path, traversing the most dangerous of terrain… Through the Valley of Death I was allowed to understand life.. In the Desert I discovered that solitude was the path to righteousness.. Atop the mountain peaks I recognized all the untapped beauty and unrealized potential..

I continue to travel…
With mind… With body.. With soul.. With spirit..
I will rest when time desires such..

But only for a moment, until time allows me to travel again..