A Pome a Day for a Year

Frozen.
No miniscule movements, except that inertia of Earth,
the constant spin and blasting through space,
that none of us can even feel.

We careen and zoom through murkiest nothing,
and act as though we are stationary,
but we are moving, we are always moving,
there is no such thing as ‘stopping’ or ‘still’
we are forever only forward, only off,
only passing through time and space.

This constant ballet of life can never end,
and we can never return to any point
before the everlasting now,
our time was never ours,
just the illusion of holding the future
between our palms.