Paradox
It doesn't take much,
a glancing thought shot out
of a moment, a sudden recall,
that strange sense
‘I've been here before’,
to send the mind scrambling
to stitch a tear in time.
Somewhere becomes familiar,
a replay of what has been
or is yet to come,
bled through whatever it is
that separates the now
from then, a duplicate, a lived out
sequence scripted before.
I sometimes feel in between,
cast in a state that is neither
here nor there, where a misstep
might send me
spiraling helplessly
into the far reaches of ‘there’,
with no way back to ‘here’.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2024
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