When you want your dreams to be your reality you begin to act accordingly. Time seems to be the enemy, but even when the sun is gone it still leaves its footprints streaking the blue sky.

No time anymore for sitting on porches feeling the evening breeze. It's time for action. When you realize the sun's almost gone and no one has really been standing in your way, time to realize you're human and full of power.

You look in the mirror to see if the buttocks are still firm enough to catch a mans eye and make him momentarily forget he belongs to someone else. A walk that he'll try to hold in his mind long after it's lost from his eyes. Some say that's vain. People who believe in God shouldn't indulge in such foolishness. It makes you wonder do they praise the Lord when they go to bed and turn off the lights. You leave the gossip to your friends. Of course, you have put the story you want told in their mouths.

Even after years of praying self revelation still hasn't come. You search the trees and the leaves that look like they have seen every season and hold both joy and pain. You look towards the sky even when it's freshly covered in blackness. Dressed by a quilt of stars it begs you to gaze upon it and ponder over its mystery. So close you can reach and pull one down and wear it as jewelry, but so far away you can't comprehend its scale. When the morning light chases them away they'll be momentarily forgotten until played again like a sweet song.

Nature, kin to the flesh, pants in the breeze, the sun holding gold, trees in bloom causes you to search out the world made for you. And until you find it the tears stand in your eyes begging for their own ground to fall on. Until then you feel like trees without roots with limbs that hang down scratching your knees.

These of course are things you want to preach, but there's no pulpit for you to give your sermon. People don't want to be reminded that they are only pretending to be alive. Whenever they are reminded the mind conjures up the feelings once covered in the hollow of their hearts.

Even if they won't listen, the memories play back in the cool of the evening. Mostly the suffering during the winters when there was no sign of spring. Trying to shield yourself from the coldness in the face of the premonitions won't work. They come back again and again sounding the alarm of reality.