Laying in the sun

in an empty room

on a winter’s day

with a writer speaking wisdom

is better than traveling

to a thousand destinations

and

even then

in your rest

the journey must happen.

You will follow a pilgrimage

to somewhere

not found on a map.

A man makes his life

even if he doesn’t know he is making it

and the world doesn’t wait for him.

So, he might chase the sun

over the next horizon

to beat time

or he might visit an empty golf course

where only the crickets chirp.

In these moments

when the world clicks forward

he knows where he stands

and he doesn’t race to catch up.

He leaves his footprints on the moon

recognizing…

there is beauty in aimless roads

or pathless highways

and delayed rebellion

suddenly manifests

in the moment.