Now

The word emerges and dissolves leaving an after-image which is formed only in the eyes and not in the physical space. The present moment is an intangible experience which is but yet not present, it can only be sensed subtly, like touching the surface of a moving river without wetting your fingers.

Time revolves to return and halt
it falls and breaks to a satiated memory 
which can no more count
no more depart
or withstand the vast void
which lies between
inhale and exhale

a nascent caught amid the present iteration 
leaping into the darkness of anomaly
a constant struggle
a constant
that moment distracting
unconscious from conscious
that unprecedented moment
yet not present
now...
it hides and slips into a perpetual flux 
where it tends to meet with eagerness 
and stay
still moving and flickering, 
unnoticed, unattended
at times a glimpse,

a flash

kicking a stone to and fro,
touching the surface of the moving river

where does it rest?
a time which doesn't catch attention 
when lost in thoughts,
when not conscious to care
slowly and secretly elopes 
withdrawing
into the open
ended
brackets
of
anticipation

Time revolves to return and escape. 
2 12 ’15 (notes from my diary)

• Nathi Khumalo
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