FREE OF PROBLEMS Can we ever reach a point where unexpected vicissitudes no longer hound our days? The ominous storm is brewing closer and I stand alone at the edge of time, or so it seems: but is there salvation in time alone? Can we ever be free in hope of something sweet in the future? Can I escape the rain by wishing it away for another day? Dark clouds erase an azure sky; gale winds bow reeds and whip tree tops; pounding rains ride upon the winds; heavy showers pelt the ground: there is no cover here for my body. Cold and wet I come to realize this is the truth of now: whether the sun shone an hour ago – whether it will shine an hour from now, this moment is all I have: like it or not this ‘present’ is the key to life’s door.