The day has a voice, I suppose.  But mine’s louder, more rhymes and with more wander and beaming momentum, notice.  So, I give it notice, put it on notice, that I’m not interested in what it intends.  I decide the rhythm and the song to be played, what I recite and the pace of such.  My ways are must, necessitated and in the moment, not at all pre-meditated.  For the most part.

Today, all parts of it, scenes and Roads, need know that I’m conducting.  My voice is loving, but assertive.  And here I go…. There is no decision to be made, not that I’ve already made one.  I’m simply moving, deciding.  The notice, Monday.