As surely as the countdown begins our time is not our own
Already there’s the breath of the wind which bleaches bare the bones
Of the deadlines we set, of the jokes we don’t get
And forgetfulness that furrows the brow…
No I’ll never find a better time
To be alive than now.
So I wake up, to remainder the dream
Of personality and posture and face
For nothing can remain as it seems
In some perfect state of pure grace….
All we prize and protect only cause and effect
But I suspect the furrow may be guiding the plough
And I’ll never find a better time
To be alive than now.
No better, no worse, much the same,
We wait on the why and the when;
No question but we’ll go as we came
With no shift in the shape of the zen
And it is as it is and we take as we find
Always next season’s buds on the bough…
But I’ll never find a better time
Hard though it is to allow
I’ll never find a better time
To be alive than now.
This is the life and we’ve only time
To be alive right now.