When I touch the keyboard time begins, again.
Morning fog surrenders its embrace,
Somewhere a voice will bellow “action!”
And we, actors, renew our journey.
Could I but stay my hand
Allow nothing to change;
Void the anticipated next chapter
And so remain untethered, outside of time.
Alert, without thought.
Aware of a stupendous nothingness
That exists, omnipresent,
And abides my suspension.
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