Moving, moving and moving with rolling, rolling and rolling, no matter how far. Since the wheel was created, it has been spinning and spinning from its very beginnings, up to the present. This particular day is no different than any other day, however, it’s the maneuver from a truck in a past life, and the wheel being the piece too the puzzle in searching for the source in where the wheel belongs in its ore, and the solidarity of its future. 

Through the horizon, and into the sunset, rolling endlessly into unknown territories. Not even rain nor mud can stop the wheel that advances, but with reiteration in finding one’s past back to where it all started, and how it will be reacquainted. So through the highways of peril, and the mountains of foundation, and hoping one day to find the truck in subject, and conclusion in the matter.

Darkness has turned to despair, and not even the full moon with all its brightness, can light the path in finding home for the wheel. Suddenly, a twist without a miss, as the wheel was steadily speeding, and rolling on a busy highway, the wheel noticed a truck on the side of the road without a tire. Here was the wheel’s opportunity, and the word anguish in the back burner of nothing of substance. So the wheel aimed at the right spot for the trucker to see, and use as a spare. The trucker put the wheel on, and the rest is highway history. It was on the road again, spinning and spinning, and into new horizons, and through new ranges of sunshine. The wheel is moving, and the destination in being at the right spot at the right time.