Eating out on a Sunday night, we try to take flight, but the wings won't come, and we're not nearly done for the afternoon situations that arise in our heads. Note the salty texture of the lounge room floor, and then show me to the door once more. When the time has come, we will know, and we will see the wishes and the trees where we will go, to the next illumination that is calling us from just around the bend. It's time to mend the long and forgotten universe that seems to need us so much that it has created us out of thin air, out of nothingness, out of everythingness, out of missing persons on the wind.

Some lone children, still untouched by the deluge come skipping down the path. There are three of them all told, and they present themselves to the liberty bell ship that is passing in the night, that is telling them to take flight, from their workaday world that will eventually overcome.

What
is
it
that
you
are
waiting
for?

Walk out the door, and see what is on the other side. In your mind there lies the answer to your eternal question.