Seldom do we arrive in the moment
Rewinding back, skipping forward
Not to the good parts either
The places we are stuck

Forgetting we can be different
Self-organized solidity from infinity
Repetitive thoughts, unconscious acts
And permanence endures

There are some who can hold space
For us, and themselves
Time slows here
Bending of the collective illusion

They see beauty in the minutia
Never aching to be elsewhere
Yet recognize possibilities
That only whisper to the rest

But they stake a new frontier
Initiating stirrings of a new dream
One we will awaken to
When sleep no longer satisfies

 

 

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