Sitting here looking for inspiration.
I see it in the sun, crowning with green newly moist earth
The cars ever passing, the wheels ever turning
I see it in the floor, dirtied from the rubber of worn out souls
Time always running, life never stopping
I see it in the coffee sippers, the endless commuters and in the questioning smiles of attention seekers
Production at all cost. No time to think. Or not to think.
What is the “it.”
A lost longing for the thing only fully known when found.