Often times I contemplate what is holding me back from simply going off from my life and walking
and walking and walking and not stopping until I find the place where I belong,
a place where the weak are strong and the forgotten are remembered.
If I were to drop my belongings and go about on my way not looking back then there is no way you
would be able to stop me with any of the games you play when others try to do this,
offering them money, fame, and fortune.
I want none of that.
If you were to offer me the most extravagant and luxurious palace in all of the country and world
and expect me to stop my search for a place that is rightly just
then understand that I would refuse your offer.
If you expect me to stop even if you try to give me all the money ever made by any mortal man            or being I will refuse.
If you think you could bribe me with a new shiny car-toy that all the big executives are just dying
to have then you must understand that you simply don't understand me
for I would refuse.
You could offer me the most coveted of status, being known across the land by all and the envy of any
person in their right-might and I would continue my walk,
my search for a better place.
I can't be bought out by any item of material possession, because the things of material possession
in this world don't matter to me.
If you really wanted me to stop walking then only one thing would you have to do:
Show me a place where the weak are finally strong, the poor are finally comfortable, the shunned
finally acknowledged, the forgotten finally remembered, the oppressed finally justified, the hated finally loved, the rejected finally accepted, the hungry finally fed.
Show me this place, and then I will stop walking,
For I will have found a place for me.

I often take walks down a nature trail behind my house on nice autumn days
and marvel at the majesty and beauty of nature surrounding me.
From time to time I end up walking for hours on end,
contemplating the improbable,  incomprehensible,
radically miniscule chance that I am indeed alive
at this very moment.
I like to think about my life and events that occurred to make me who I am:
the people I met, the things I said, the challenges I overcame,
the adversaries whom I defeated, and the ones I forgave.
I also think about the events in my life filled with regret:
the people I neglected, the ones I hurt,
the ones I hated, and the ones I shunned.
I let my mind wander to the possibilities of who I possibly could be
had I let that person into my home,
or volunteered more time at a shelter,
or was nicer to the ones around me.
I have always tried to live my life without any regrets,
but I find that the more one thinks about life
the more they discover regrets they never realized;
the ones buried deep down in the darkest depths of the heart.
Perhaps it is in my greatest interest simply to ignore the possibility
that I indeed have lived a rather selfish life,
only thinking of myself ,not others,
and hurting those around me in the process.
Perhaps if I were to go on living my life without thinking of others
and simply worry about myself and my own problems
then I'll be happy.
There is a chance that doing so would result in more happiness for me,
but that's exactly the point I have been struggling with:
only happiness for me.
I struggle now with the idea that it is possible I've been neglecting others
in return for personal and private gains,
whether that be fiscally, or emotionally, or physically.
I want to know what life would be like if maybe I were to start to live more for others
and worry less about myself.
I ponder on these nature walks the question of whether or not living for others
is the responsible thing to do, or should I only worry about myself
and from that society will benefit.
I want to help, I really do have a desire to do good in the world,
but every time I begin to start, I falter,
scared that I won't get anything out of it.
So the more and more I contemplate what my problem is,
the more I realize that the problem is me.
There is a little boy inside me that is terrified of doing anything
for the gain of only others and not himself.
The little boy inside me cowers at homeless on the street
and the opportunities to help them.
The little boy inside of me is constantly telling me only to worry about myself
and that the problems of the oppressed are problems only for the oppressed.
So I ponder this question on these nature walks as well:
Are the problems of the poor, the needy, the oppressed, the hungry,
the hurt, and the sick only problems to be fixed by them?
Should I be doing all I can to provide medicine, and food, and money
to those who don't have the opportunities and blessings I do?
I ask myself these questions constantly, perpetually in fear that I am indeed rather selfish.
Along these walks I constantly come across puddles,
whether big, small, large, skinny,
deep, shallow, stagnant, or rippling.
I find myself walking past ponds of many different sizes,
and every time I come to one I continue past it
without looking at all.
I'm terrified to see my reflection and who I really am.

Black smoke rises as the train enters the station.
It’s time I get out, time I leave this nation
For a while, but not too long indeed.
There are just a few places that I need to see
And a part of me that I need to discover.
I promise you I’ll return back here another
Man, but yet still the same me.
It’s time for a while I set myself free
From the world I am in, discover who I am.
The funny thing is, I don’t have a plan
For where I’m first going, first train I suppose
Is the one I will get on, get on alone.
But by darling, I really do wish you were here.
It’s too bad that you are not any place near.
Holding your hand would make this more easy
And seeing your face would make me less queasy.
But deep down I know I must do this alone
If I wish to return with myself better known.
The train’s now approaching, I’m slightly distraught.
But I find comfort now in this thought:
Though you’re not here, just the mere thought of you
Is plenty enough to turn my skies blue.

Just down the road out of town,
It’s not a long way to go,
One will find a great strong tree,
A great strong tree covered in snow.

From the branches hang clear icicles.
The bark is covered in frost.
And in the battle of life and death
Life appears to have lost.

But take a walk up to the tree
And give a branch a shake.
And off falls frost and icicles.
A new branch it seems to make.

Continue this process of shaking branches
And soon enough you’ll see.
The tree was never dead at all,
Life has the victory.

The frost and snow do not convey
The truth the tree can tell.
That to this day and forever more
The tree has never fell.

One day, at the end of the fall
I found myself looking at a tree.
The tree was mighty, great, and tall,
And the last leaf hanging, he spoke to me.

He told me of his troubles,
Of the loneliness he felt.
How it looks like he’ll be by himself
Until the last of the snows melt.

These things I took to heart,
Because the troubled me deep.
I looked at the leaf and began to start
The most important question my heart could seep.

I said “But you’re the last leaf hanging!
Aren't you the strongest of them all?”
He replied, “Yes,
But I’ve been terribly lonely since the middle of fall.”

At that moment it hit me,
That which kept my heart in a rip,
Courage and strength are nice to see,
But what counts in the end is friendship.

The man, he knew his time was small,
To tell his sweet love of it all.
He could not think of any way,
For him to tell of his love, to convey,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

His window of time, so the doctor speaks,
Is about three months, so maybe twelve weeks,
That’s not enough time, he needs more, he demands.
That’s not enough time to carry out his plans,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

So he does nothing, a month goes by.
Until one night, she breaks down and starts to cry.
The man puts his head on her shoulder and whispers “I love you”
And at this point in time, he finally knows what to do,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

From that moment on, he never leaves her side.
He even asks her to be his bride.
He knows his odds of living are small,
But the way he sees it, he may not get another chance at all,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

The next month is happy, four more weeks have ran.
Everything seems to be going according to his plan.
Until one night, he feels a pain in his chest,
He tries so hard to overcome this, he does his best,
To tell of his affection so strong for her.

He’s rushed to the hospital, where he’s looked at by the doctor.
She tries to go in his room, and the assistant stops her.
But behind the nurse, she catches a glance,
Of the man looking at her, saying he never fully got a chance,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

Into tears she bursts, when the doctor comes back,
Saying he had one final heart attack.
Then it hits her, comes to her attention,
That she never took a chance during his medical declension,
To tell of her affection, so strong for him.