There will come a time
when the gray view ahead
diminishes to a tiny black dot
when our impatience
to dismiss the present
outweighs existence
We train for it
by listening to music
instead of birds and cicadas
We prepare for it
by watching TV
instead of the shimmer of leaves
We rehearse for it
by texting endlessly
instead of listening to eyes
We plan for it
by twiddling our thumbs
instead of listening to our hearts
We scheme for it
by wishing for magic
instead of knowing who we are
We lust for it
in irrefutable ignorance
instead of paying attention
Finally it will be all that is left
yesterday is coming
