Sometimes I lay in bed and watch
The ceiling fan trace its never ending pattern
If I blink rapidly the blades seem to slow
In bursts of suspended animation
This is also my life as
I watch the never ending pattern
Woven day by day, minute by minute
But if I blink, it does not slow
It merely vanishes out of reach
And I don't even know what I missed
So why am I wasting time watching a fan?