Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Future and past

In every moment, there’s purity, it’s hardly felt

When there is no silence, of the mind

Each moment has only one chance to shine

In the spotlight, but it is stolen by marauding thoughts

From the ghetto of memory, or from the ones

That paint the sky blue, with artificial ink

Promising to erase any accumulated pain

This moment could be as vast as the universe

Instead it is a tiny sliver between two imaginary boulders

The past and the future, which dominate the landscape

There is hope, of prising open the moment

Letting it be, in its pristine and untainted state