At day's end the wheel stops. Every wheel must stop. The wheels of a car stop, of a train, the wheels of state pause. Rings come off, are lost. The hoop falls to the ground when the hooper, limber though she may be, ceases to dance.
But the imagination toils on. And so, our dreams are a mightier wheel than any in industry, any in politics, or state, or bond. Fuel for the imagination is unlimited. It burns forever.
And so on this note, I offer to some friends who are toiling hard to keep their wheels in motion, this cautionary word. Walk away. Don't toil. Don't bother. Give it a rest. Go to your place of dreams and imagine. Set in motion a great river, a great sky, and an energy of being. It will fly, when you go to sleep.