I don’t know where I am, don’t know where I’m going,
Isn’t that the beauty, the beauty of the thing?
Isn’t it, my dear? Oh isn’t it, my dearest?
The land has wilderness not yet conquered by man,
Not ever treaded on or even gazed upon,
It is truly open both in body and soul
Like a newborn infant or how the river bed
Is gently reflected into its clear blue eyes,
As I am now standing under golden arches
The pathways before me slither along shadows
And I can envision them in my poet heart,
My blood boils once again as I stare into deeps
So distant and so dark not even time comes back,
As I prepare to dive into this sea of ink
With no fear at heart but that of the blank page
Pushing towards the edge. Oh I am not afraid
Yet I am terrified, oh I am not yet dead
For I feel so alive, oh should I hesitate?
Only a single god knows the absolute truth
To this unique riddle and her name is Future.
Dedicated to Tom Petty. Of the importance of the hook.