All are waiting… Waiting for that drench of freshness to alleviate their soul, to manifest and make them whole. In bits and pieces they tarry like wind flowing onto their next course. But how this adventure manipulates one, confuses and elates’all at the same time. An open door beckons, a window to the soul, waiting it invites the on comers willingly inviting them in. In the midst sits a lonely soul wondering and harboring awaiting his fate unambiguous… Will he enter or will he keep his lamp low just as subtle upon the high tides of his withering fate. That bright light that beckons within, just one turn and a look is all it takes and the path is cleared of debris. He sits up and sets of on his trail relying on his judgement each step. A kiss from the wind breezes his neck, his eyes hopeful and empty, that lamp burns low for a while but the dawning awaits him in surprise of his own self-worth. Others know him but not of him as he is yet to find himself unambiguous in his being and anguish. His mixtures of tether, unassuming yet of wonder as he tries to flee his dilemmas. What a beautiful soul he is without a recognition. A butterfly in waiting, his metamorphosis diminishing… That light burns bright, his eyes will soon be full.