Once some time ago I played upon the keyboard where sounds were found and formed, and then a cello resonated to the stroke of the strings to sing a song as the bow I drew across their tightness so strong.

Once some time ago I held a piece of charcoal, it moved across the canvas to place in black and gray scenes so bold and brave; a brush then came to paint something new, with thick and gooey oil, it drew upon my past, at least it seemed so as the colors rolled down upon the scene.

Once some time ago I roared with the wind, in single solitary flight, I drove the race like Hannibal to the fight, despite my victorious picture view, the prize was not mine to take.

Once some time ago I saw many tired and sorry souls, they had no where to go, so I invited them in to share a space, spend some time in a serene and restful place, but then, my deposits were no more,so I had to let them go.

Once some time ago I walked among so many, we had our times, those up and down, joyful and sad, serious and yet, not those so bad. And I sought

the places where hearts do dwell and stayed there for a spell.

And, yes once some time ago I played upon the key board the sounds could be heard most everywhere; Then I drew the bow to vibrate strings to call the sounds; Upon canvas I placed what I saw and maybe those imagined sights that come to us all. I raced with the wind; Then went to places to marvel at. I opened some doors to let folks in, and still I wonder why there were those others who could not come by.

Now I play upon the word, and not unlike in times of old, they stretch and streak and stream across the face of tablets new, sometimes these words that pull the meaning from within seem not to belong to me, and I wonder, does this quest never end, to find the truth that never bends?

But then, is this not the thing to which man is called, to seek, to reach, to find, to conquer, then to move on till final destiny is to be found? Or is it to wonder along till death comes by to bring finality to its end?

Which is it, I know not the answer sought, but to years of youth I say, "follow the heart where ever it lead, for only then ....will you know where truth lurks to be found ( somewhere at the end)."

                                                                                                                  T. Condon, Jan.1998