Galloping on the Plains

And thus it has been almost a year since the first lamentations were penned, in an effort to divert the consciousness away from the acute pain of my physical and emotional immediacy, such that I might take flight in the vastness of introspection, while I spare an effigy of passivity for the callous demands of the world. I was indeed hoping that, while being lost in my ceaseless galloping, the passage of time may mercifully accelerate itself and forward me to the next horizon, the next plunge, my next universe. While old wounds heal in mere anticipation for new ones to invade the flesh, what more can the soul do but linger wistfully by the roadside, spending more time sniffing an occasional rose? The days roll on despite your personal conceptions of temporality. For all we know, tomorrow is but yesterday waiting to revisit, to renourish and relearn our joys and grief.