If the rumors are true? If the mountain tops touch the horizon? If the clouds fall asleep and don't just fade away? There will be another tomorrow another day unlike any before or any to come again.

The uniqueness of creation, the mystery of dawn humbles man. The vastness of glory! His place compared to the sun all measured between the hours before the moon replaces the ball of fire, before the stars clothe the sky, before light no longer guides.

Is there a script for his days? Aimlessly, hopelessly, homeless-ly, helplessly drifting from shore to shore. The clues come in puzzles, the answers revelations. But then again who is man when compared to the sun?