Living In The Present, Can Sometimes Be Too Late.

If a rock is teetering over my head, on the tiniest of pinnacles, I'd like a moment's notice, to step aside instead

Of standing there and meditating on the beauty of a moment that is just about to end by the crashing on my head

Of little bits of mica and bigger ones of granite, all because I could not see that there was something there to dread.

And if the moon is rising but the sky is very dark, I hope I hear the thunder before the lightning becomes too stark

For if I see the lightning, feel its breath upon my neck, that's a little close for comfort, especially in the dark.

I feel no need for passions if they're just a simple lark, nor do I want the fantasies that come up in the park.

If the next moment crashing through me, I become the roux, a simple little thickening for some great eternal stew.

So if you want me to be present, please grant this simple boon. Give me a little warning, before you make me leave the room.