The time has come.

The time is now.

The regularity is here.

In our hearts

and minds

and skin

and bones

and teeth

and hair

and fingers

and toes

and

Stop.

Breathe.

Take a minute.

A minute to wish upon the clock,

to wish away our fears.

Think, for this minute, about the dreams 

we hide in our souls,

the dreams burning to be realized,

on fire all the time, on fire 

in our minds.

Dreams of tomorrow,

of today,

of yesterday.

Because what is this life

but a dream?

A hazy mist that we float through

along the stream,

the stream of our consciousness.

Row, row with all our might.

Learn to fight 

the current. Fight the attempts of the weak 

to hold us back.

Because we deserve this.

We earned this.

Take each day to find the patterns,

and the patterns within

the patterns, and the rhythm within 

the patterns, within the patterns,

repeat.

Wash.

Rinse.

Repeat.

And record.

Record this journey we’re taking together. Record 

as we burn on

and on

and on,

as they burn on

in the stars, as they flow and sing.

Sing a nebulullaby, a song 

to sing us all to sleep 

so that we might dream again. Repeat 

this whole crazy minute again.

Over and over and over again.

Maybe perhaps we’ll get it right.

One of these days we might just 

get it right. But we’ll never know 

unless we try, so with painty hands we’ll do 

our part. Live life to the fullest, 

and leave fear in the dust.

Minute by minute we’ll create and record.

Again,

and again,

and again, 

by heart.