Stealing Time

we are chasing youth
with its vibrant immaturity;
not satisfied with the knowledge
from the wisdom of aging;
we try to recapture
an invincibility we never had
as bold sunsets mark
the passing of our days

orange dawn awakens us to wonder
how we might
find a few more minutes,
no hours,
no days,
weeks,
months -
just a few more years -
to accomplish the countless dreams
we gave up to the chase
not understanding
that wanting
was stealing our time
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Life is the Mind

much of living
is a choice of the mind;
we decide how to spend
the banked hours of our lives
though we are unconscious
of the transaction -
of making the choice to trade time -

our days are determined by our beliefs,
we have constructed our own limitations
with the words in our minds:
"I can't"
"I don't know how"
"there isn't time"
echo within the cavernous walls
keeping us from our full potential,

we determine how we are hurt,
though it is all perception of the mind,
habits practiced through the years -
now second nature -
keep us held down;

we are our own restraints;
we are strong,
we are safe,
but are we alive?
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Work

when my reckoning comes 
these days won't matter
(if they ever did), 
that I pushed, stretched
to my limits and beyond
instead of taking in a fiery sunset
won't be worthy of a footnote
in the annals of time,

so why put myself
through such grueling paces:
it's what I watched,
it's what I know,
it's how I sleep at night,

I don't know how to stop
so I drive on
another plough-house in the field
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