I sit as still as the obsidian formed 
After slow-moving molten lava cools
As the world around me whirls
Moving like the pyroclastic flow after an eruption, 
too fast for me to 
Catch more than a blurred
Flash of color
 
I watch as if I am in slow motion
And everyone and everything else 
Is moving at a pace
I can’t compete with
And I am fixed to the spot
 
I chase the twirling ribbons of 
Life as they speed past
Dancing around me in circles
Eluding me with ease
They are the cars racing along a highway
While I am on the side of the road, 
Watching them pass
 
I plead with myself to move, move.
To do something. But I don’t listen
I’m knee-deep in mud, wading through
And they are on a moving walkway
Headed towards their future
Their passion burning hot
While mine has long since cooled
 
Their graceful, sure-footed steps 
Never wavering or faltering
My own steps stumbling
Like a runner finishing a marathon 
And so I sit again, as still as cooled obsidian