Un-Present

Rushing moments, pushing the present to its limits,
Conscious of the constant hum of right now.
With fingers housing creative energies poised to attack the next project that must be undertaken,
Charging forward with an unharnessed power of lightening.
Shrugging off the past, blazing into the future, and disconnected from the moment
As self-consciousness is intellectualized and not holistically experienced.
Come down from the clouds to rest your feet on the Earth.
Painful awareness of the tick-tock of the clock ironically brings one closer to death by preventing life,
As time is kept alive in the mind,
Staking claim to valuable space.
Stunted by the pressure of what must, what should, what could be done in the next moment.
Overwhelmed by the possibilities and paralyzed by indecision.
The clock ticks on.
This is the perversion of living here and now,
Letting oneself be caged by thought and not be freed by thoughtlessness.
The anxiety stirred by the passing moments commands to be heeded
As attempts are made to weave the fabric of time into a satin smooth material.
A kind of enveloping cloth that caresses the skin softly and lays lightly upon the body.
But this is not time.
It is not gentle,
It is not subtle,
But it is weightless.
The lightest thing in existence.