I am a long string of moments
That I try in vain to capture on a phone
To review later, escaping the present
To only half enjoy the past
I was created by God
A frame in a moving picture
A dusty, spirit infused meat
Made to look something like love
Though born with a disease
I mutate and regress
I stagnate and swell
Until I fell back into the arms of grace
That stood me up on feet again
And taught me to walk towards the coming son
Taught me to become less, to go down
To learn from the smallest of things
How to be great
To learn from death how to live
And from life how to die
To everything I think I need
And grasp the only thing worth grasping
With a grip made doubly strong
By the fact that it grasps me back
A moment
Caught in time
Of a hand reaching out
To catch a falling man
My whole life is filled with these snapshots
Leaving me walking through a gallery
Experiencing an emotion humans only touch
When they begin to think outside of the present
When they join the great I Am in simply existing
Present, past, and future in the meshwork of it all
Recalling past fithfulness and failures
Perceiving future rewards or pitfalls
To climb the branches of a tree
And look out over the underbrush of moments
Above the canopy layers
To see all the way to the horison of life
And to know more than just today
Is the only way we can understand this moment
Without perspective I am a weird series of stills
A sad collection of washing dishes
Forgeting where my car keys are
And watching my toe bleed after tearing off a hangnail
No wonder this world confuses most people
How do we make sense of genocide?
Animals that eat each other
And women who put plastic in their breasts?
Is the world so nonsensical
That the option that makes most sense
Is to give up trying and just drug ourselves?
Escape, escape
All I see is my friends trying to escape
The moment
If a moment was good, they try to nail it to the wall
They want to freese it in time so they never have to leave it
If the moment is bad, and they cannot escape it
They will damage their senses so they need not take it in
They would gouge out their own eyes
Impair their ability to enjoy future moments
Just to escape the hell of the present one
And all this thinking or lack thereof leaves me climbing trees
Burying my nose in some history book
Or reading about the future of artificial intelligence
To try to tie my life to something greater
To try to find my place in this world
My sense of time has left me
Not wanting to waste it
I yearn to be this well oiled machine
This expensive factory, getting stuff done
I want to be working round the clock
And creating the product with the highest demand
I want to be going to the right school
And learning computer code
I want to be teaching myself french
And how to cook raviolis
I want to be going and doing
Because I was born in the country
That teaches that stillness is waste
And that rest is idleness
I need to reprogram my brain
To mirror the cycles of days and seasons
The way nature goes further by not burning out
The preperation of the pupa
The hibernation of the grizzly
Oh God of all moments
Who gives me each day a steady stream
Of now
I look for you in each second
Turning my present into praise
Recounting my past in song and tribal dance
Offering my future as a sweet offering
All my hours and minutes I give to you
As firsts and not seconds
This moment is a holy place
Just to be with you
Just to be
depthofpoetry 