[Cross Post:  Time to Get Busy, from The Halo Halo Blog, with edits]

I remember what he told me before the day. Now, here I am passing each one by one by one until the blend into a blur. My routine changes in hopes to remember that I am not just passing the same day over and over.

I write, I create, I visit to see the places around me. Did you know that He never traveled more than two hundred miles in any direction from his birthplace. Even then, his effect was a shock wave hi and around and around to be for ever.

There is this place I remember. It is in the fields along a wall of rocks about waist high. It is at an intersection in the middle of the vineyard that there is a lone tree on a hilltop.

I never thought that I would follow so earnestly this tale and invitation. Half embarassed, it wasn't really me there when he talked of it. Just overheard from a reading passed on, a message left for someone I dearly hoped would be

me too.

It was a nother time.

An innocent man.

Disappeared. Exonerated.

I often wonder how that place might look, that place on the water. And so I fall asleep afoot of the tree from wandering. And in the waking back to the walking, I looked forward to the rise of the sun.

With hope.

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