time has come and gone like sailing upon a vast ocean.
adventures take us from one place to another.
their are dreams of always something much better in the end.
some lighthouse, some beacon of truth that will make our lives as
easy and floating as a mote in the wind.

But I do not know where I am going, I only know where I am;
exiled,
on some island.. no shoes, November beard.
but the sail has to continue,