Always Forward

Time keeps moving forward,
Always forward, measuring change.
Moving energy and matter through space.
Artificially divided into intervals,
We call by different names.
Seasons and seconds.
Hours and eras.
We order our linear lives in this way.
For we too are matter and energy,
Constantly being moved forward by time.
Our form is sentient, observant,
Aware that it’s being moved.
Fearing the moment when awareness ends.
Naming that moment, death.
Matter is neither created, nor destroyed.
So we won’t be literally be gone,
When we’re dead.
We’ll no longer be in the same sentient form,
But we’ll still be here.
Our matter, our energy,
Still being pulled along,
Always forward, by time.

In the morning….

…as he leaves the house he removes one of his earphones, leaving Kate Bush to serenade him on only one side for a moment. He does so partly so he can hear the sound of the children playing outside in the nursery school across the way, but mostly so he can hear them if they say hello, which they often do. He wouldn’t want them to think he ignored them. That would never do. Having passed the children and heading to the bus stop he restores his Kate Bush balance and begins his day.