My love for the wild world was lost. It snuck away as I was sleeping in the night. It took with it, my soul, my spirit and my words. I was devoid, dark and a recluse on repeat. Luckily, it has been given back to me. My passionate spirit is whispering of its prior state. It feels the need to be full again, to come back home to a world of giving light. As I spent a third evening in New York, I am reminded that I am not alone. New York has a way of making me feel alive, whether I want to or not. Words are my passion, so I stay writing. No holding back, I thank God for blessing me with life everyday.