Wander

Wandering can be magical.

It can also be mathematical, or mysterious, or even wonderful.

While wandering we use our minds.

"Daddy? Where is momma?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her."

Where did the moment go? The moment that is now a memory? I wasn't ready for that moment to end.

I wander what had happened. What would of happened if I had not wandered enough. What could of happened.

I sit out in the warm texas night. Taking drags every few minutes. I talk to her ever so often.

"Hey mom, how's it going up there?"

Sometimes I wander if she can hear me. I wander if she puts ideas in my head as a way of guiding me through life. Since she can't be here physically.

"I miss you momma."

I do, I really do. No matter how much wandering I do, there will be no answer, but do I want an answer? I wander.