Life seems to happen all around me. Things and people are coming and going as if they are programmed to. I could join the shuffle of life that packs cities and crowds areans but instead I tuck my loose hair behind my right ear and grab my pen. I sit on the roots of a nearby tree and I watch the world tell me a story. The world is a very serious writer but I try to pick out what I should re-tell. Maybe God made me to be a bystander, but maybe I’m sitting back so that standing up will be much easier. If so, thank you God.