To abandon expectation is to be rid of disappointment; All who let the shroud of desire fall to their feet, will notice also discontentment, lying dormant on the floor, a lathargic hound, his bite a distant memory; but now, which dogmatic montra to take up its place? That stoic aversion of all that does not align with nature? But which nature to align to? How about, an epicurean pursuit of pleasure? But which can one taste while shunning the tantalizing eye of desire? Perhaps only the silence of that final dream will bring the reprieve we seek; Shall we sit and wait or usher it forward? Better yet, can we accept, take up the path fortune designed? Can we simply enjoy the hike; divets, thorns, and all? Without searching for that mystic trail that does not exist