When Time Has No Meaning

Being alive is about time.

We measure ourselves

and our days against it,

In years lived and hours worked:

Beats and breaths per minute

When inspired or connected,

We pass time in an instant.

Aware not of the clock,

Only of each other and ourselves

But what of when time attacks?

When it rears its head and howls

"You are measured,

and I am counting."

It grips us

Like a vice

The pressure is faint

But constant

Something is very wrong here.

We drift between motions

On an invisible current

Like a paper boat cast out to sea

Afloat, but just barely

In glimpses,

We are lifted, anchored

In a lover's kiss

Or a long sought after embrace

We breathe in the moment

Pushing awareness aside

Give me just this

Forever

I want to live

When time has no meaning

Take me there

And let the clock run out