Refocused A professor of thought, went on a walk in a park to review his mind. The day was clear, the air was clean. Inspiration would be easy to find. He followed a path, then across some grass, to a small grove of sycamore trees. He felt timeless strength, admired their beauty, and they sang to him in the breeze. "The story we sing is the same song sung for centuries thru sea shells. The same one a waving ocean, or a tiny waterfall tells. Those who listen will see the sound in the colors of one great flow. Those who feel it strengthen their spark, a great balance will come to know." He was sure he was drawn here by desire for this. As sure as if on a track. He breathed in fresh air, smiled of high hopes, Refocused, and started back. W. C. Wampler [ Last Word, Refocused, Everything + Nothing, Listening To Hot Lovers, A Blink, Timeless Writ ]