I am here.
Where I sit.
Bent knees folded under
ebony wood desk.
Harsh computer screen light
insists on my attention.

My mind drifts
to a place of gentle beauty, warmth and water.
Lapping waves caress sandy beaches.
Balmy sun rays touch all with a golden
Midas touch.

I am here.
Keyboard letters waiting to be tapped,
bills to be paid,
calendar to be adjusted.

My mind wanders.
Here I sit
but there I go.

An eagles vision of all below,
soaring over mountaintops,
gliding above wide open plains,
blank pages before me,
ivory sheets upon my desk.

Here I sit.
I am here.

My spirit roams,
walls and windows pose no threat,
no barrier to this wandering mind.
The world awaits,
a vast outdoors
waiting to be explored.

Here I sit.
Shoulders in knots, fingers kinked,
but there I go.

Lost in thought.
Lost in the beauty of a dragonfly wing;
a wispy orange cloud tinged with the sun
dipping down in the west holds me,
holds on to day because this moment nears –
nears rest.
Where east and west come together.
No beginning.
No end.
The earth revolving,
And there is so much
to see
to explore.

Yet here I am.

My mind is out the door.

I am here
seated too long.

I am here.

But my spirit
is long gone.


The clock is ticking
a metronome
a numbing, staccato beat
each tick reverberates on my weary mind
a magnetic pull obliterating all other thought
and sound
heavy eyelids scratch and droop
sodden, wet wool in a Scottish rainstorm

I crave sleep
the ticking beckons
now, now, sleep now

but sleep dances away
teasing mercilessly
a Sufi dervish spinning, whirling
dizzyingly taunting

giddiness overtakes me
as the clock becomes my world
shapes move in and out of my bleary eyed vision
I’m flying through space
floating, drifting,distorted
only to be pulled back
by the ticking