I took a step not knowing that I would fall down so many feet and this time my mind did not race. Instead, I was in a fog. A long winter storm. Sheets of ice covered up my escape. Looking into this block of coldness I saw the reflection of my face. The lights were dim as the night began to set in. Shadows in the moonlight as the crisp air of the outside blow onto my skin.

Beyond this door was the summer. Crystal pools of delight everyday to be retold. Ears full of laughter as I hoped to capture the midday sun. Plenty of joy to be rubbed together anyway you can think about it. Bright colors all around and all the time to begin.

Looking back I saw a moment where ice at night was not the summer I remembered, but I had hoped that dark times would not return. I was under the thumb of forces and I pulled at them at every turn. I knew my role was not to be the master. I only thought I could rule as the true king, number one, but I was really a small fry who at the end of the day was under the gun. I could not control the weather. If it rained, I had no choice of being wet. Once the hourglass was turned over the sands were just not going to last.

Time was but a moment no matter who reads the clock. One second always has a way that never ever stops. Looking forward we can do this by sometimes looking back. In every moment we can recall that we already been there before as moments repeat and turn into view. What was said will be said again as if it is something new. It is so easy to remember tales of the somethings we always knew.

When leaving a door for somewhere know there is more than a very small chance that the door to somewhere will take you nowhere real fast. It will be like stepping in and feeling that you never really left. The same song sung by a different singer or the same room painted a different hue. That promise for something new was never really true.