TODAY

Time towers over us
As we interpret this moment to be hours

Minutes molded into a maze
sliced from seconds that become fast cementing pathways
we walk on encircled in bubbles of new born days
mornings mapped with mourning and a couple of sun rays

As curiosity or lack thereof leads us to our inseparable ways
that grow into mushrooming midday's
We merge melody and music into our ancestors yesterday's and buried ways

Well at least till we fumble upon our own way or the prescribed way

Or till  lazy afternoon naps give us away
When we dream of that hypnotizing perfume of our full potential
that our daily chores did not care to mention

Perhaps when self pity sets
we will erase regret in sets

And begin to remember the sound spoken by the seed
that silently sprouts into an awesome sight

Between the palms of the earth, beneath a skin as dark as night 
it resolves within itself to take the form of light
With all its being it searches for what is warm and bright
With all it's might 

And never ceases to seek it even in the cold rain
till it reaches the certainty of the silencing night 


What is best to praise
of our encounter with this ever present today?

That throws what we think to be ours
in a dungeon so far away
that nothing remains of it's shadow
other than the mind's futile play
or the heart's abstract contracting pain

Do we praise Today?

How does one explain 
That today was made plain
If one cannot comprehend 
that today was marvelously made?