May peace be found for the heart that knows no boundaries and knows not when to heed the cautionary arrests felt in itself from time to time.

May reconciliation be made for the slight in this mind that cares not the reality of the world, the dynamics of which it tries to comprehend without success, even if this mind holds enough sense to recognize what is quintessentially human.

And may rest be granted for this soul that has tire and aged, even as it is not quite time to.

Miles. And miles.

And miles traversed.

Across a landscape of emotions that spanned the years passed, and spans, surely, the years to come, as seen through a tapestry of personalities in the people who have come and gone, the mileage accrued on the heart and mind and soul marked forever and weightedly so.

Time to sprint. Time to catch a breath.

Which way?

No one knows, the least I.