Waiting Still

While waiting for the careless time to pass

it’s easy to forget that time has passed;

that time is glacial and relentless; time

that wears away the world. Relentless, fixed,

it’s steady, steady, steady till it’s not;

and minutes stretch into infinity

and nothing happens. Nothing hangs around

repeatedly repeating nothingness,

a carousel of emptiness, a time

of waiting never ending. Waiting. Still.

Tomorrow and the future never comes.

The past and future both are dead.

There’s only now, the ever present now,

the silent, empty, prison that is now.

There’s only the infinity of now.

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