Dispassionate Clear | Spoken Word Poetry

I’m too tired for insight,
too strong for solace,
too clear for words,
too resonant for silence,
too old for wonder,
too lucid.

Today came, looked at me and passed me by,
just like yesterday did,
and the day before it.

They all gazed at each other and sighed,
shaking their heads,
because they know,
they know,
even though they would never let me have it,
that now is not the right time
for me.

Because they know the timing
of my every purpose under Heaven,
and now it is my purpose
to do nothing.