the clock on the wall slower
than the thoughts in my head,
not racing to keep up,
content with being stolid, still, and steady
the whirl of the fan keeping up
with the hurried beat of my heart.
both are driven by their respective motors
both are trying to achieve a goal...
but not quite
through the window of my living room,
clashing with the air escaping my lungs.
colliding invisibly, merging, melding together
until i breathe their concoction back into me
as my next breath takes shape.
i make myself sit still
legs crossed underneath me on the couch
i close the window, my breath left to become steady
i make the room silent so my thoughts can become quiet
i focus on the clock, and i compel my heart to toe the line
the tension dissipates
the mania subsides
all are one
photo credit: Prelude 2000 (via Flickr)