There are times when I wander,
not in the sense of pacing,
although I do find pacing helps
to satiate a  bias for action.

I wander along streams of life
consciousness, of opposites
and art, where there is no sun
without shade.

Where there’s no rainbow
without rain, and where this
bird of hope flutters in the
belly of artistic thought.

Giving birth to interconnected
life thoughts in the wistfullness
of words, which may be a
guidepost to something new.

But for it to be new, there must be
something old, or yet unfound
which permits life streams
to merge into this moment.

And despite all odds, and all
of life chances and the tumble
of the dice of world randomness
we are here living in these moments

that we are just wandering through!