Time: a man-made concept of life broken into seconds, minutes, days… Something I never seem to have enough of.  I wear so many hats it is often challenging just to spend a few moments to dream of the new story or  poem.

I miss those days when I’d hike for miles and watch the clouds form into films. I’d look up as their wispy outlines drew stories of my making. Then, journal in hand,  I’d plop down against a boulder, sand dune, or tree and began to scratch furiously across the page. Letting the scenes unfold before me, faster my hand would go.

And time would drift away.

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