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I wonder far but wander near and wish to know if there is treasure here. Would it be buried underneath the sand or way off in a different land? Perhaps it is simply already in your hand. If it only matters how you measure treasure I suppose you can find it at your leisure. That takes the competition out of the race and the ignition out of my pace as again I wait. And wait. And wait. In any case, those who seek will find “the gold “as it will be unique per every mind (I’m told). Maybe it was dug up from underground or was the smell of something all around. Literal or not, my search now a lot of whimsical thoughts fraught with (perhaps hypothetical) X marks the spot. In this gap of time I am in, I could go there again but my own map leads to nowhere so I guess, at best, these feet are a stagnant pair. Not to say they could not move, but if they did, would it prove they are wandering for the sake of the search, not pondering a stake in leaving you in the lurch. They would state life will suffice and onus stays on the fact that any extra is a bonus (some unsolicited advice). These feet complicit in repeat, (in case you miss it) I’ll walk it twice, this subconscious place that is no destination happens to be my sedation vacation. Therefore, my travel time is none I suppose I end where I’ve begun. That is not nearly as much fun as finding near the one that is nowhere close to here. This trend, I fear, will only take these feet to roam as far away as my own home. Grateful as I am I wonder about that wander and how far I would measure to ponder a different treasure. How long my feet can possibly stay static between this basement and the attic. One day I am letting them run away off in the sun setting, gone astray. Will they be given a chance to take a stance, maybe even prance! At a glance I’m only ranting, a lonely wine that needs decanting. More realistically just panting, as I have been lying here dreaming, not trying to be scheming in my twitching, spastic sleeping. These feet cannot help but run as I dream in a beam of sun. I don’t think I really want to leave, just have a midday jaunt, fresh air reprieve. These musings may not make much sense but if you are choosing to keep reading, friends, I’ll explain my thoughts, for your sake, not pence. If you care, I will correct and dare, to my count, perfect. (It should help this tale redirect) I suppose these feet are not one pair, but by a different tail, a pair of pairs, covered in hair, in your favourite chair. Two pairs of feet, or rather, paws. I blather on but just because, regardless of your flaws (by absence caused), eventually you will come home. Then I will give chase between this attic and basement, stop being so erratic about where your face went and we will go roam. I won’t need to wonder far anymore as we wander out our near front door together, in any weather, and play and search and sniff for treasure! Turns out the search with you is the one to measure, and I will search with you, together, forever, until tomorrow, where yesterday’s tale will chase this tail to borrow. 

With sniffs and licks when all six of our happy feet betwixt the perk of sleep and work, will walk a beat with no retreat! DID YOU SAY TREAT!?!
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