The Present

The clock makes the same sound
Second after second
Minute after minute
Hour after hour
Tick
Tock
The days pass by
The weeks scurry on
I wonder what the future looks like
My OPD kicks in (over planning disorder)
The anxiety hits, palms sweating
I wonder
I wonder what the future holds
I can’t sleep, the anxiety cripples
The future holds me in its grip
And then I realize that it doesn’t have to
I realize that the present is silently calling my name
The sound is so quiet, it makes no noise.
It passes me by with only a whisper.
The people come and go like passengers at a train station
Faces change, places change, stories change.
Liberation
Liberation comes when we choose to live in the present
Freedom comes for the captive that watches the sun rise and set
The weeks scurry on
The days pass by
Tock
Tick
Hour after hour
Minute after minute
Second after second
The clock makes the same sound