Using time to think about what was, what never was, what should have been.

The world outside of now is all

As time slips quietly out of reach. Lost promise plays across my inner view

But the light that shines across the room

Into my eyes as I stare at the wall

Is nothing.


Using time to lose myself again and again, time and again in wishes.

Living other people’s moments;

Consumed by their lives as, tick by tock, my life morphs into what never was,

What should have been. And still the light shines on my eyes

Creating unseen patterns,

Unfelt pain.


Using time to understand that time is not my own but rather something given and poured out;

Not seen except as oddly distant.

History and prophecy the same, in truth,

And life shines on my face and hurts my eyes as staring,

Waiting, dreaming, drifting, falling,

I remember.