Lonely, one’s heart might say. Some may drown themselves in the uncomfortably comfortable embrace of another claiming to be obedient to instinct, but forgetting that a warm smile melts the winter ice away.  Why not, ride on top of the sea of wind, become airborne, find joy in knowing that the wind has seen many places and knows where to take you.The wind can stop at any moment leaving one to fall into the cold, intangible hands of what keeps us breathing What counts down to the moment of our last breath. And once this master has his hands on us from the minute we are born,he does not let go, the hands wait for no one. Some may say that they’ve been through the woods, they dealt with prickly thorns that pricked at their bare feet,they used that blood they shed and wrote their name clear as day so others after them could see their journey to transcendence. They may have cried along the way, may have gotten frustrated, but when they examined a bit of their soul that  is on their fingertips, they do not cry, --they mark a new territory.