Nameless

Often in the wake of a pleasant day,
I feel myself drifting away,
Into the wilderness I venture,
Searching for what I wonder?
The pull I feel has to have a source,
As I recount the currents of the unsettling force.

Facing minute chores I frown,
How to get through or drown?
How many chose the easier path,
Than rather stay, fight and adapt?

How to fully cherish the now,
When it slips away without a vow,
Joy and sorrow
Is no ones to actually borrow,
Emotions are pretty illusions,
Another shade in the kaledeoscope of notions.

As I twist, turn and scrape for an answer,
My eye catches the tick-tock of the clock upon the drawer,
What I seek is what I can't keep,
Grab onto it but watch it slip away,
Like sand from between my fingers,
Each granule unique, lost forever.

It is of course the fourth dimension,
The very moment is the direction,
Where it leads is the future,
What it leaves is the past,
Treasure it while it lasts.

So when you feel the tug,
Of the restless bug,
Brush it off with a smile,
As it will be dealt with in its mile.