We connect the dots, drawing God with our fingers, pictures and paintings of God in our likeness, slipping slowly into the role of limited deity, failed mothers and fathers. The windows leak sounds of the houses we built to hold in our secrets and internal lies. Those which were told to ourselves and only us, verbalized in synaps and neurons, thoughts and emotions. The off balance actions of the outwardly balanced mind , and oh the cheer of joyous occasion brought to light in civil deceit. I document the moment and forget the reason, release the idea in exchange for the ideal. I've lots of gaps in the memory, but really none at all, it's just words that I say to keep the wall of my house standing safe. But, I breathed in once, felt the breeze of freedom, the rush of the wind as it told me the secrets of truth. We are the wanders, the beggars, and liars, hoping for a future and fighting to protect safe our past.