Chilled to the bone, wet with anxiety I wonder in which city I awaken in today. It is overcast and a cool breeze is blowing through this alley. I have little memory of how I ended up here; however it seems an all too familiar feeling as of late. I wonder what time it is as I wipe the crust of sleep from my eyes. Yawning I feel a chill run down my spine, and the all too familiar Goosebumps cover my body. I can smell something cooking, it smells like bacon, or maybe some ham. It has a sweet savory scent as it is carried on the winds.

As I blink things seem to become clearer as another yawn escapes me. How long have I been sleeping? It seems like yesterday I had all that a man of stature could ever require. I had the boat, cars, motorcycles, house, wife, and I even had a few dogs that would great me with wagging tails as they pushed each other around to get my attention. I had want for little more yet at the same time I felt incomplete. There was something missing. I had no idea what it was yet I know something was out there that I had missed in the search for all that I had.

I remembered something from long ago, yet I couldn’t quite understand its meaning.

Here I am again alone,
Where do I again atone.
Who am I to see these things,
Life a love that doesn’t ring.

I wonder why I feel I’m dead,
Alone I stand here full of dread.
Will I find the things of gold,
Just to know of things foretold.

Can I see the dreams of past,
Can I search these dreams to fast.
Can I see a single path,
Can I search the times of wrath.
Can I see from dreams of old,
Can I search for pots of gold.
Can I see the depths of time,
Can I search in truth and rhyme.

Can I know the dreams of past,
Can I live the dreams to fast.
Can I know a single path,
Can I live the times of wrath
Can I know from dreams of old,
Can I live for pots of gold.
Can I know the depths of time,
Can I live in truth and rhyme.

As I write this simple words,
Knowing love is too absurd,
As I write for none to see,
I can hide from only me.

Someday when I hear a song,
Thoughts of this are never wrong.
Never again till day is night,
Then my lord these words I write.

Many times I have thought of these words. I try to understand their meaning each Time I awake in a new city, I wonder if these words are the path I am searching for, or are they some memory of a time long forgotten. Who am I? Why do I awake in another city, only to ask the same questions? I wonder if today I will understand if I am worthy to write again.

Worthy Yes,, As you travel on this Journey set before you,, Past becomes present,, and the Future holds new memories in the Making,, New stories to tell

((( Craig ))))

It seems you hit the nail on the head, This is the beginning of an idea for a book I am going to write.

G

Good to see you as always Craig it will make and excellent book indeed

Splendid write G.

Very nice.