Between memory’s persistent echo
and tomorrow’s gentle whisper,
we inhabit this fleeing point of now,
a ghostly moment, gone before it’s grasped,
yet we’re told that this is all we have.

They counsel: “Be here, be present,
find your peace”, as if the mind could
sever time’s vast web, as if we weren’t
woven tightly with yesterday’s threads
and pulled to futures half-imagined.

The present is no holiday island,
more a threshold: a delicate liminal
space where past and future meet,
where regret and hope entwine from
ancient roots, where memory and
longing share the same breath.

So this is our curse, our blessing:
to exist in the between, to feel the
weight of what has been with yearning
and dread for what might come from
in this sacred human tension of living
stretched like skin across all time at once.

 

23/4/2025