Shiny leaves solidify with no trace of myself left behind in their future. What I have taken out of the forest with me has been ripped apart. Using my today for tomorrow is necessary because the decapitated bushes showed no sign of God in Creation. I appreciate what was formed on the branches with the necessity in my soul to find the workings of the Creator. “Try, try, try….” I chant as I look at the speculative present and admit to a past that must have meant something. Even the rocks cannot sing my song- “I Will Find A Way”.