Time...

The world is not the same.

Time seemed to stand still for a while, a hazy fog that I couldn't escape. 

Days running into each other like bummer cars at a carnival mindlessly moving. 

Now it rushes by with no relent, a snowmelt feed stream in the spring. 

Time is such a relative thing to us living, 

our whole lives are measured by it.

I can't help but count the days since you died. 

I'm in prison marking the walls until my release or your return, 

all the while knowing both are futile. 

I can not help it. 

We rush around, 

trying to make sense of the senseless,

day in and day out,

putting standards and motives on everything.

Time is endless and it passes 

with or without us.

When I stop long enough to stand still, 

I feel you next to me.

I know you are not gone but everywhere now.

You became apart of Time itself. 

I try to be slower, 

mindfully moving through the maze of life. 

Appreciating all the moments that make it up,

being thankful for the short time I got to spend with you. 

The world is not the same
 nor will I
ever be the same.