Stillness

Can stillness be in life,
As life hurls toward decay?
Does seed of verve proliferate,
Or shed potency,
Until we reach that day?

No feat to gaze beyond the now,
Set mind upon horizon,
Then stare back from there- not bits but whole,
Fulfilment summed today til done,
Will grandeur nought set pang to soul?

The clock never stops,
'Cept once to expire,
It ticks and tocks,
It hovers like a shadow,
Wields vezuvias' wrath,
Unchanging in direction,
It mocks resistive path;

But nothing bound in calculation,
Can turn back or bring to stop,
The hands that move upon the soul,
Despite your cry creeps furtive toll;

To indulge and forebear destiny,
Abandon humble's hedge,
Take up life of expectation,
Where no falters proffer guarantee
Just race against the mirror,
With failure cold as fodder for a torture,
By desire's misery;

The other plate is substance,
To serve instead the void,
To live lifetimes by each action,
knowing bits trump the whole,
To colour fleeting moments,
As chances to be bold;

Nothings sour about awareness,
Mortality chocolate sweet,
Limit lets you savor, and
Find stillness in your beat.