It doesn’t have to make sense to you. Perfect sense is for those who live by the norms. We live up to our own expectations. Our only genuine sense is to always wander. My intellectual thoughts wander off into the blue painted sky; they roam among the greenery that surrounds us. They wander into the early morning dusk, welcomed by the sound of Gods creation, the melody of chirping birds as they lay still in the pastures. And my mind continues to race as the vibrant dwindle of the sun, settles into the west. I then let my thoughts levitate into the horizon and as there swept away with all the streaming stars and twinkling lights that illuminate the darkness above. As the day becomes the night, I look forward to another analogous morning, ready for it to happen all over again. Peace.