You think you have it all together, you think you know where you are going, you think your plan is in place. Then, the sky opens up and the torrential downfall splats by your feet. You question your privatized inner beliefs. You raise your eyes to the empty vastness of the universe and see endless space.
Once you were cushioned and hugged by this vastness but now you are adrift. Floating with the tiny particles of earth on a relentless journey to find whatever it is you think you have lost. Something with substance, something with a purpose, something indescribable, but still something you felt. A map of life living and power swept from your very essence.
You reach out to grasp the thing and hold a bubble of air that slowly slips through the crevices. The smell of raw defeat encapsulates your senses. Passion flies softy away in the early morning breeze as the quiet settles like a West Coast fog against the grain of your being. The burning of rice knocks you back into reality where split peas are still green and once again you have wandered aimlessly down that path searching for the reasons.
Answers escape without acknowledgement or justification to any realization of facts. Seeking out the seven moons will become a necessary oddity to quantify your life and purpose.