Envy

Tonight, I found myself jealous.  Jealous of a homeless man with a mental handicap.  Despite the fact that he wasn't "normal," he had an incredible musical talent.  Sitting on a park bench, with all his possessions at his feet, he played a cello.  Standing near a tunnel, his trumpet tunes made music with the city sounds.  Once he was student at Julliard, but now he lives his passion a little differently.  He does it on the street, since the way his brain works prevents him from a normal job.  He adores music so much that nothing can stop him from it.

I'd rather be homeless and doing what I was created to do, than have a safe warm home and not know what dreams to pursue.