The Trouble Is

The trouble is, you think you have time,

Said Buddha.

But he was wrong.

I know I don’t have time.

Time has me

Running marathons of mindless tasks,

Day after day.

Be here now!

My phone alarm says,

But not in a Buddha way.

I race through the day

Trying to be on time,

But time is always on me,

Until the last chore on my mental checklist

Is complete,

Then I waste time, fill time, kill time

Until sleep takes me out of time,

But only until morning.

I know what he meant, of course.

You think you have time

To do all the things you want to have time for,

But never do.

We all dream of having time.

Free time,

Or time free

Of deadlines and dreadlines,

Worry and hurry.

We don’t have time.

We can only hold it

Like a breath,

For one moment.

Then let it go.