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Finally he falls asleep, short of breath and a little weak
Not concerning himself with how common he could be, sitting in traffic anxiously awaiting to begin another week.
He awakes toward the end of another dull gray day, with rested eyes he realizes it's not safe to stay in this place.
Slowly he rises from where he had laid his head so many times before, trying to find his way through the door.
He knew right away that he had forgotten something along the way; he slows down for a moment and then he remembers to breathe in then out slowly.
What once seemed so simple and free, no longer comes with ease and that feeling of genuine release.
And although the light of day has already gone about its way, he can still clearly see that nothing here is as it should be.
He rises to his feet and walks away without the shame of defeat, taking only what he needs, his word, his dignity and his chose to be free.
Finding himself to be a little weary and unable to rest peacefully, I ask him to lie next to me and to tell me his story until he is able to sleep.
I prey for him to dream sweetly as he begins detoxifying his body, but the days linger as the hours pass so slowly that he begins to weep.
Then he spoke to me about what he has done and the possibilities of what could be, he knew time was ` priceless and should be traded by none.
He walked away and left me with a promise that we would talk of change another day, "the air seems to
have a taste"….it almost seems sweet" Those are the words of a man I know who walks steady,
With out speed.