I have the loneliest mind.

My strength rises from the fields and I fly upon my gaze into the strangest skies–skies which have whirlpool centers of fate, which wear grey autumns as costume, which pronounce and preside over this strange and solitary country.

Upon such a gaze as mine, I can sweep into the hearts of steel and stone and find what I was always capable of finding; find, in fact, the sleeping lives of all souls waiting for their owners, some owners never to arrive.

And what if such a soul were mine? If it were to wander the streets and days and struggle to divine its life in the clouds?And if its gaze met mine in the blue freezing heights, would we know one another?