The Painted Face Smiled upon those Footsteps, that know the Path of Travel. Tongues Rarely Speak to the Eyes, who Tells the Ears what they will soon Hear. Anger Silently Looks to Kill and Passion Clings to the Immediate Choice, over the Mountains the River Slices through the Places of Many without Saying any Names. The Journey has no Compass and Destination, depends upon much more than Wit and Will. The Eagle tells Us, what it sees, the Birds fly to show which Way to Go, the Deer tells Us, what to Drink, the Wind Loves Us, and the Clouds join Us, Being Alone, which has No Place here, but Lonely is Our Constant Companion. That Rock there, it is staring at You, see it’s Face. That Tree Breathes for You. That Bird Flies for You, That Creek used to be a Little River, That Place, this Space, We share it all, at this very Moment. Sometimes when Your at Home, You get so Comfortable and Relaxed, You may Forget Yourself. Mislay or Lose a Thing or Two, but, if Your Related to All that is Living, there is No Question, Love Overrides Lost, any Old Time!