Still Now but Never Now

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2/21/24 – 12:22 AM

Time drips through these halls and rooms
to find me perched on the bed with a pen and notebook,
scribing my life onto paper with ink that tallies each
passing second as my lifetime ticks forward to the
moment we each will face when it's all over: death.
The only proof I have that I'm alive is the breath
of each passing instant that I stumble blindly
through as I reach the more recent “now.”
Not that previous now.
This now.
And with that, it's already gone: dead to the new now.
Never a moment to rest, the present constantly 
grinds forth and beyond, still now but never now.
To remain stable and present, time demands attention
on the persistently new arrival of fresh instances
as they line up and fall forever to the static past.
Where do I exist in this never ending flow of rebirth?
A million past “me's” against the infinity of “me's” to come,
all through the narrow eye-hole of a transient present.
To be made free and original every moment detaches me
from the burden of believing I am permanently defined by past,
each second I am free to be whatever I desire or need.
Shame and doubt have no hold on a moment freshly spawned.
The past is a memory, the future a dream.
“Now” is just another word for then.