You’re a seeker. On a journey. Trekking from village-to-village. Searching for fragments to a puzzle. Sometimes you find one piece. Sometimes two. Sometimes none. Occasionally you stop and rest, carefully removing the puzzle parts, piece-by-piece, from your well-worn travel pouch and placing them on a portion of ground you’ve leveled with your calloused palms. You study each: One is bitter blue. Another, anxious amber. Others: Sweet silver. Rebellious red. Pretentious pink. Then you re-arrange them. Then re-arrange them, again. And again. “Perhaps that’s a piece of sky,” you think. “Or water.” The amber looks like fire. The red? Blood. The pink? Who knows? After pondering the possibilities, you place each precious puzzle part back into the pouch. Then you sleep — prepared to renew your journey in the fresh morning light.
