Now Clock

time is blind and all-seeing

Time is art and a mountain, an illusion, a 4th dimensional movie. time rushes and we cannot resist the speed. time washes us, in the ceremony of now, again and again. fleeting and endless. magnetized to the speed of the dreamer herself.

collectively asleep upon Gaia
we lie buried in our humanness,
within the programming of several centuries of neglect
emerges a priority for awareness to reset reality

we travel to the edges of what is possible to feel
spanning the spectrum of experiences:
such varieties of suffering and joy,
we ache in grief or smile in delight
finding and losing one another along the way

buried in the sands of time,
we seek a path to move beyond
those threadbare lineages
of our familial material
past sheds like silken skin,
now is sewing new clothes for future to wear