The wind felt different on my neck today,
Slightly colder, unfamiliar,
It was not a feeling I was used to.

But this breeze hasn’t changed at all
There was a spark on the nerves of the cuticles where hair stands ensnaired there had sounds of foundation rock breaking and cracking a lump of clay stepping out of the mold under its own power it’s own fruition at first its unseemly bordering on crude then your curiosity strikes like what will this lump of clay do? will he crash off the table damp too much water tear himself in two brand new asunder asunder asunder I see a rock we have to peek under I have to keep searching but my search has all been for naught but then again looking on those days in the rays I couldn’t wait to find shade is this really the only way yes she says with a sigh so I position my head so my eyes meet sky i guess it’s time to retry so here I go again and again and again and again and again so many times I’ve tried to take flight and sometimes I can’t be but filled with spite but I know The Wheel she spins goes back and goes forth
So it’s on to the next and the next and the next this life is only a quest but that is only a guess