To simply state the complexities of life, “Our roads are ever crossing but never merging; forever intertwined yet different roads we stay.
When we first met at mile marker 230 I never thought that I’d feel this way,
and as we’ve driven down the roads we go our dotted lines have met again.
Remember back at 238 when your overpass zipped cross mine?
O what a joy it was to see the new you, all paved and smooth, and lined with such beautiful trees.
As for me I looked much the same, still cracked concrete I did remain,
but the smile it gave me to see you again was worth the journey if that had been the end.
Much to my luck our roads crossed once more,
I passed you by while you were under construction somewhere near exit 242.
That was nice and all. I just wish I could have slowed it down and stayed a while but I had to keep moving, had to continue the drive, and once again our roads passed by.
Again we met round Exit 244, just down the road from where our pavements last met. I enjoyed that road as you stayed close by at least for another mile or “2”.
Now, not far from there, our roads seem to be detouring once more, mine going east and yours moves west. Before we part I want you to know,
I never thought I would feel this way. As the concrete has poured out and life moved on, mile after mile I only hope to see once more.
When can we meet again? When will Interstate “You” and highway “ME” finally merge for all eternity?
This question is the most difficult of all, as our roads remain
Always crossing, never merging.

I wish; I wish I could go back; back to those images which are now dissipating, dissolving away as I toss and turn desperately trying to fall back asleep.
I yearn for that moment, in which I may re-enter the sweet embrace of that false reality within my mind, and I find myself praying that those images be not vanquished into a distant memory lost somewhere in the depths of my own imagination; hoping to recapture those moments of you and I that can only begin as these eyes close down and this false reality sets in.
You see, I hold you not with my arms, but only in my heart
And if our holding of hands can only exist within the bounds of this land of make believe then I shall enter into that wonderland in full hope and pursuit of the joys of that dream.
It is with meaning and Swiftness I tell you my heart
“If you could see that I’m the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can’t you see? You belong with me.”
“You belong with me.”

So I think I am just writing for the sake of writing tonight, and with that being said let me just say this.

As this ship pitches slowly but surely and we make our steam for the prospect ahead, I am overcome with an anxiousness and desire to leave the ocean and begin my work. I had a dream of going to Haiti the other night. It was a disturbing site to see. Crumbled buildings covering broken bodies, covered in the tears and blood, casting fear of the unknown into those that were unfortunate enough to be left behind. An already broken, already poverty stricken country now sent further into depths of disparity. Children sit on cracked side walks eating mud cakes lacking all nutritional value, only to fill their empty bellies with dirt and mud. Mothers are still in search of their children and loved ones.
I see the pain in their eyes, yet I know that at this moment only my prayers go out to them. I desire to go, to bring peace, hope, and if not any of the above, maybe just rest to their restless wandering.

I need your help. I need you to desire a change. Not just in Haiti where the need is obvious, but in the Dominican, in Turkey, in Cambodia, in Mozambique. I need you to see that they need you. If you yourself are unwilling, or unable to go; if you yourself are not willing or not able to get on that plane, that boat, that horse, that bus, or whatever it takes, and go be with them physically, emotionally, and spiritually, then I need you to support this cause. We are a blessed nation, a blessed people and we take so much for granted. We have a choice of not just what we will eat, but where "want" to eat. We have the choice to buy our Ipods, our movies, our magazines, our make-ups, and our clothes. These people don't. They don't know what they will eat. They don't even know that they will eat. Their clothes are torn and in shambles. They might not even have a single pair of shoes to protect their feet, yet I know that some of us have more shoes than we know what to do with.
I need you to recognize that there are people in countries like china that will work 18 hours a day in order to make your clothing, your shoes, your toys, and at the end of that day not even be able to afford what they have just made for you with their tired hands.
Do you recognize the cost of our lifestyle?
Will you help me bring something back to those hands? Will you help bring a small light into their world? Will you choose to love someone you have never met? Will you choose to care?
Because I do. I choose to walk with love for people in this world. I choose to care about the people that I have never met, and I am ready to go and give back to the world that has given so much to me. I want to be part of the revolution in this world, and I will do it in the name of the Lord Jesus. I will walk by faith, with hope in my heart and a promise on my lips. I will feed those that I can, clothe the naked, and care for the sick. I need you to want to as well. And if you do, then you can help this race against time. Support me on this mission. I need your prayers, I need your gifts, I need you.
Will you choose to help this world?
Support me on the World Race at

WilliamDiefenbach.TheWorldRace.org

~William Diefenbach
Contact me @ WeDiefenbach@gmail.com

Beginning needs end, yet no end in sight.
                     For journeys of this sort, end not tonight.
Demons tromp round the room ere I be,
Yearn I do for days set free.
For hide I not the depths I've dove,
                  nor hate the road upon which I drove.
The angels and demons led me thus far,
                                    leaving behind a memorable scar.
                                                   Gnashing teeth and fiery swords
             Battles wage between the hordes
                           Spirits at war demanding this heart,
                                                    End not this day, written from start.
                In darkness I walk in search of light,
                                                 And at son’s rise I seek the night
                                                        Both sides call like Sirens song
                                                                 Confused I am to whom I belong.
                                                     Sway I do like the sea
                                               To and fro which side to be.
With smiles ajoy I choose now this day,
                     To join the heavens at this game they play.
                                            I thank thee my Lord for the battles you wage,
                                       Defending this pawn through out the age.
Cannons thunder and demons dost fall,
                          Lord I fight this day for thy call.
                                       Force me this day this decision to stand,
  Take this heart for what you’ve planned.

Longing heart, aching soul, searching, needing, waiting, wanting. I march forth, no desire to rest. Craving a turn of this page, to see the next chapter, to see the next day. Something much deeper than oceans depth, awaits my heart; Something far more beautiful than the rising sun approaches this life. Stories untold, soon to unravel. Anxious and impatient here I stand with opportunities at face. Hesitant, yet willing, I close my eyes, “Do I jump? Will I sink? Shall I wait? Should I go?” To open the door, or to hide away, this the choice that I make. Unsatisfied, and thirsting at more, I chase, I charge, I run, I seek to end this page and read the next. I know there's more. It sits beyond the bounds of this day, But with each new page my hunger grows. Set down the book, this I cannot, nor find its end nor find my peace. I will continue, I will press on, to finish this book, to live this life.

There I stood amongst the crowd. Hundreds have gathered, like prairie dogs, we are still, with our eyes focused out past the rocks, and into the setting sun. The dolphins are rolling in the waves, and feeding on the snook. The earth is now cooled in the late evening breeze, and the sun begins its journey to the bottom of the ocean. The sky lights up with the most brilliant of colors, oranges, reds, pinks, and blues. All eyes look west, soaking up the picture.
Against the crowd, I turn my back to the setting sun!
I look away and into the eastern sky to see the clouds lit up just as brilliantly as the west, but there is more. The sun reflects off the condos showing their true colors, and the sandy shore is a fiery orange lined with birds after their final meals.

It is the picture that most won’t see. It is the forgotten view. Just as beautiful as the west, but with our backs turned against it we often miss out. Most will look west in hopes of catching what every one else is looking for. The beauty of the sunset, But what is beauty?
To me it is what most will not see. They want to see it, but they will miss out. Distracted by the obvious sunset, they forget to turn around.
Beauty is intentionally turning around and looking at something for all it is worth. It is looking at something or someone for more than what the world looks for. It is seeing the whole picture. It is the uneven dimples of her smile. The sorrow in her eyes as we pass by the homeless. The gentleness of her fingertips pressed against mine, and how she tries to hide her little sneezes. Beauty is the way she looks as she brushes her teeth in the morning, and smiles at me through that foamy mouth. It is the words she whispers gently in my ears just before I fall asleep at night.

I am turning my back to the falling sun in search of that true beauty. What will the east hold for me? I am looking, where are you?

Reeking havoc upon your words,
Snickering, laughing, sneering away,
Making you feel like lowly cattle terds.
This is my goal, my joy for today.

Hope you go now to cry in your bed,
Hope you’re depressed by what you’ve now read.

I mean to hate, I mean to harm
I write with disgust and hatred for you,
Ending in my fingers from my heart through my arm,
Your poems a joke I hope you die too…..