On Deck

Staring into a dimension beyond,

Seeing the baseball player vaguely,

Next to hit, he swings a weighted bat

Hypnotically, back and forth.

Slow motion heavy, my eyes watch his.

Time proves relative, and I am lost

In a million faces, and places, feeling fat.

Twelve hundred hours gone in a second,

Back and forth, 600 past, 600 future,

One tick is now and I am here, at last

In that place where the vision told me,

I wasn’t even batting yet—

On deck for a bit, but the time would come fast,

And the weight would come off,

And watching the pitcher would prove well,

And all that I had learned,

Would come together in a zone of I AM existence,

Fully aware and in wonder,

And home run hitting thrills as I get my turn.

-jenn long