Poem: Time

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Wanting to stop,

Craving to slow down, 

Longing for the sweet serenity of mind;

The demons are getting louder this winter time. 

A scary cycle sometimes, how the mind

Can lead you to believe you are running out of time.

Does time exist though love? 

Or is it an illusion to masterfully mask?

Mask the past, present and future times; 

How can one know where one stands?

Why am I creating these scenarios in my exhausted mind?

Blending of all times, I rather live in the now. 

After all, that’s all we have: 

Memories belong to the past

And anxiety comes from the upcoming now, 

In the year 2029.

But I can cultivate this breath now, 

Nurture myself right now, 

Inhale in, exhale out. 

What am I running towards? 


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