It’s a Sunday morning on the coast and the clouds make their way to shore.  The smell of rain is in the air and the cleansing should come soon.  Being the over thinker has my brain working overdrive and the off button seems to be stuck.  The dryer bustles in the background and the smell of dryer sheets is instantly calming.  The sound of a flute joining the piano soothes my indecisive temperament while the perilous nature of uncertainty makes it’s own assessment.  Birds take flight in unison and my puppy let’s me love him.  The to-do list grows a mind of it’s own and you wonder why everything takes so long.  You go out of your way to make things right but the light won’t turn green and the traffic can get backed up for miles.  No one can let you down if you don’t allow them to hold you up.  Another birthday comes and goes and breakfast isn’t ready yet.  The iambic pentameter tries to find me today and that’s okay.  We have come a long way from pictograms and it’s just another day.  History has a way of repeating itself if you let it in while breaking the binds of pattern can release you from sin.  A society based in what’s it all for and how far have we really come?  Are you willing to join your mirror or are you still wondering where you’re from?  Sometimes a self inflicted lullaby can set you free as if you were a new found miracle left out for the world to see.  Dr. Seuss had it right when he found the Wocket in his pocket and in closing he let us know… “I don’t care if you believe it.  And I hope we never leave it”.