No Monk, No Past

I cannot be a monk, for time's elusive flow, No today exists, no tomorrow in the past does show. In this transient realm, where moments swiftly flee, I seek solace in the present, where life's essence be. Yesterday's echoes, they whisper in my ear, Yet their tendrils fade, as new horizons draw near. No dwelling in what was, no dwelling in what's to come, For the now is the vessel where my spirit finds home. The chant of yesterday's prayers, a distant lullaby, As I dance with the present, beneath a timeless sky. No robes of solemnity shall adorn my weary soul, For I am a wanderer, embracing life's ever-changing role. No cloistered walls confine, nor rigid dogmas bind, Instead, I wander freely, with an open heart and mind. In the fluidity of moments, I discover my own grace, For life's truest treasures lie within each fleeting embrace. So, I cannot be a monk, in realms of distant dreams, I choose to be alive, where time's eternal river streams. No today to mourn, no tomorrow to forever chase, I find my purpose now, in this enchanted space.