Something Lost, Something Found

With others I live well, with comfort of their moment close: I am, I feel myself once more.
Alone: the time, an endless wall of white, I search in vain for what has been and what may come,
Alone I fill this space with sound to fill the silence of my mind.
Find love, for this is all there is and ever was of worth in moments of your time...

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- Footnote -


Time is an evasive idea. Perhaps it is a way to understand the world, a way to find and place myself and others within a narrative. Stories are helpful, yet time is wayward, difficult to measure, and impossible to restrain.


The endless moment of my life is eased only through the experience and search of love.