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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