The undercurrent of time

The undercurrent of time

As the river flows full

down it’s way to the big blue,

we leave behind all hope and despair

realising it’s just best to be.

For the future is nothing but a handful of sand

and as each grain slips through

it turns into the past

blown away by the wind.

So where lays the now, my love,

so sharp, so thin,

never remaining still?

The now doesn’t yearn,

nor does it hope,

it feels no longing for times that were,

nor does it desire what it will be.

The now, aloof and elusive, awaits us

gracefully balancing amidst all movement,

standing in the fine line of acceptance,

floating weightless down to the endless sea.

A.M.B.

Marzo de 2014