in passing.

the present is so different than the past
like a second i missed
a blink the lasted too long
i miss it because it's not the same

time
travels
past
me

and i passed through the past
like a glance through glass
i never noticed the clarity
transparency

i wish i knew what i wanted to write
because then it would write itself
i, merely an instrument of its coming
would only do what i always do

i'll let it pass through me

but today is so different than all those previous
i wish i had more than just words
more than just unheard dimensions
because if i could speak it
it would

and all by itself
me, as unnecessary as the seconds i forget,
i would be all the more inspired
to hopefully catch it in my being
they were more than just words
when they caught me standing there
waiting

but time just passes right through me.