What am I doing to myself?
The spark was ignited
but nothing is burning.
What is this sensation?
I am a post-it note
but I’m not sticking.
What is the craving?
The pantry is stocked
but I’m not eating.
Where am I going with this?
When the bud has formed
but the flower is not blooming.
What is that sound I hear?
The clock is ticking
but the hands aren’t moving.
A Patient Voice 
Harlon, I don’t think you intended it this way, but perhaps you can entertain the shift in perspective and know that even in this reaction, I carry your highest good in my heart. This one actually cracked me up. I was thinking of that moment in the cartoons when the character has swallowed the time bomb, and it ticks down, but then it doesn’t go off. How everything is suspended in this hilarious state of suspension. All the plates are spinning, and none have quite fallen. Then it goes off, and smoke emerges from the character’s smiling face… It does leave a strange aftertaste, I am sure…
Peace
Michael
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I like your spin on this. Yes, it’s me as Wyle E. Coyote chasing that darn roadrunner again. That coyote in me is faster than him but I seem to have a habit of swallowing dynamite along the way. Beep, beep. Harlon
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just add some LOVE and time will taste beautiful
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I can feel that tension! The clock is ticking but the hands aren’t moving. A watched pot does boil eventually, but it’s hard to watch. If the bud has formed, chances are the flower will bloom! I hope you can have some fun while you wait. Peace, Harlon 🙂
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Thanks JoAnna, my patience is a virtue practice hasn’t gotten perfect yet, but I will have fun while I wait – because I can 🙂 H
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I have days feeling like this. Very nice poem.
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you have such powerful words and presentation!
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NO WAY am I likin’ this.
My friend is in pain.
Harlon, there’s an email waiting in your in box.
You are loved.
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That’s right, stagnation feels like that. Time is passing but nothing, same or different happens. x
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