In the frozen embrace of winter, a taste of heat is yearned for. To release the icy grip, give a brief respite from the ice cubes.
Forgotten is the searing heat of summer, when ice cubes were sought out. Looking for a cooling breeze. Gazing at the horizon for a refreshing shower.
To be satisfied is but a relapse of complaint, echoing over the tables barren of ears.
To be content is but a state, one the mind embraces but on occasion. Drift over time, was there confusion, hope, lost or direction. Searching, looking, drifting, tumbling, the unsatisfied man roams looking….. for what?
There is a peace like a river that flows through, grasp your share, embrace it, massage it for with it life can not be de railed. The complainer is missing the river of peace.
The path of choice…….?