A kids drawing named and thrown away; wondering what happened; hoping it wasn't out of apathy. I look for a second in my going and wonder what happened there. Should I care? Part of me does. Hoping the child isn't forgotten the same way the picture was. I walk through the heaviness that comes with such a discovery. Processing the seconds, looking at the moments that try to rush away. How do I cultivate depth, when too much becomes too much? How do I explain a struggling mind that longs to find meaning in a fast-paced population, a world busy with being busy? I am no better, lost in the going as we all are lately; so I look somewhere else. I wander the between times of busy, listening for Heaven's inspiration as I walk and think. I look about me, seeing tired lives and heads down, still they try, try to cross roads to some "better" the way turtles I've seen lately have. They hope...