Back to Distractions

Do nothing.
Words from the wise.
I looked down while walking,
the consonants managed to crawl into the ear canal.
I was modestly listening.
What can I say?
I was distracted by the forest,
now an obstacle course of broken limbs.

It took a long moment
before the wisdom trickled into my senses.
Suddenly I was drawn to look up,
igniting the most satisfying of conclusions.
But only temporarily.
More questions...

Alone now,
I put it to the test
by doing nothing.
Is waiting doing?
Is something nothing?
Time for distractions.
Too many to disclose in fact.

Then it comes,
vibrating between my fingers.
Where am I?
I'm seated by my newest distraction,
now my creative dissatisfaction.
So I peek with child-like anticipation.
A sensory overload occurs.
Could it have shifted so easily?
So gracefully?
How short the time from intention to unfolding.

I race back to my distraction,
resuming my masterpiece.
I'm aware of the cosmic forces at work,
natural rhythms giving space.
No longer acting in urgency,
but rather sitting on unfolded hands,
and there was everything.
So I do nothing.