Digesting Time Poem by Patti Masterman

It seems that life must flow
In a smooth, orderly procession
Only the mind loves to break it up;
Divide it, into segments of despair and pain;
Fragments of preciousness and joy
We can never just digest the whole of it.
Personalized by our awareness,
We take it all in like a meal,
Apply our established standards,
And excrete it back out,
Molded by our own characterizations.
Maybe it's all only a dream under a shady tree,
On a summers day,
And we are all just atoms in the body of
Some careless, smiling god
Who doesn't know we exist,
Who would not change his actions one iota
Lest we live or die because of it,
The same way we would not
Shift our weight onto one foot
Merely to avoid an ant colony.