We really have no idea where life is going;
Only where it’s been;
only where it is now,
here in this narrow chamber of moments.
Designs lay on the table;
maps on the chair;
scribbled notes scattered everywhere;
promises and intensions
hang in every window,
Everything is waiting.
Such plans
untethered to the moment,
float away to future loyalties
that do not know our names.
We cup our ears,
listen to the rush of our own seashell;
(and) lean in
to whisper;
we really have no idea where life is going.
Can you feel a year,
a month, a week,
a day, an hour,
even a minute?
Only seconds.
Only instants.
Flashes.
Quivers of eyelids.
Only time you can touch with your hands,
with your eyes,
and ears,
and lips,
…like now.