By: Bruce Levine

Floating through time
Like a meteor floating in space
Propelled by gravity
Pulled without free will
Or choice of direction
Lost in circumstances of fate
Held in the hand of the unknown
Between light and dark
Amidst shades of gray
That no longer offer resolution
Roadblocks sprinkled in the sand
Like pepper ground from a mill
Wasted days filled with detritus
Consuming hours like confetti
Swept away after a parade
Focus colliding with infertility
As kaleidoscopic entities
Fracture like prisms of light
Radiating toward infinity
On a path of its own making
Leaving the source suspended
In a vacuum of virtual reality
Time floating in a continuum
Racing through a valley without end
Yet ever scaling the mountains
Evading falling rocks
Hoping to reach the summit
In a fantasy held by a thread
Dangling on the precipice of fate
Or dashed against the shore
Of a rock-bound coast
To splinter again and again
Like the hull of a sunken ship
Driftwood deposited on a sandy beach
Waiting to become a sculpture
And yet knowing its own futility
As the surf tears at its fibers
The sinews of its being
Torn into tiny pieces
To drift like a meteor in space