meaningless pursuit

let’s not talk about tomorrow
or even yesterday
as much is on our plate
is constantly now

let’s not talk about later
or even awhile ago
as much in our space
is what is already here

yet the now is giving way
to another now
forgetting for a moment
how transient now is

if past has already gone
and future has yet to arise
and now
is constantly passing off
what is left of me
a ghost,
a bubble,
arising to die?

what am I here for
I wonder…
in the midst of transiency
and constant exhaustion
of experiences
i could not even call mine
and yet
experience I have to
not a moment
without it.

woeful indeed
to be such,
of nobody’s land
of unseen territory
of endless journey
seeing no end to it

to awaken is bliss.
this is what i am here for
to walk the way
other than that
all are meaningless.

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