Home, an idea intangible to grasping hands. Scenery change a constant invariable, variably leads to a physical manifestation of home dissipating as if memories were clouds. Home seems only to reside in the past, never in the now. Moments, long gone, bring comfort only in their clarity. Lost along a forward path with certainty blazed into the past, but even footsteps wash away, the brush, foliage, creeps further forward every day. Soon enough we all become lost along the way. Let us step off this sordid ground and take off into the sea. Despite the sting of a salty breeze, for once I feel as if I can clearly see what’s around. Past, future, and now, simultaneously. These will be the things bring me to that place so often called home. Hopefully.