Why the rush? - by Chidinma Emilia

Why the Rush?‎‎Why the rush, this frenzied chase, ‎This breathless sprint through time and space? ‎The world demands a ceaseless stride, ‎A restless tide where dreams collide. ‎The clock, it ticks with ruthless might, ‎Its hands a whip from morn till night. ‎We run, we stumble, hearts ablaze, ‎Lost in the blur of endless days. ‎‎The streets are loud, a clamor’s din, ‎A symphony of haste within. ‎The horns, the shouts, the hurried feet, ‎Each pulse a race we can’t complete. ‎We clutch our lists, our plans, our goals, ‎Our minds weighed down by fleeting roles. ‎The inbox pings, the deadlines loom, ‎Each task a thread in life’s vast loom. ‎‎But why the rush? What do we gain ‎By chasing shadows through the rain? ‎The moments slip, like sand through hands, ‎Each grain a dream that time demands. ‎We trade the now for what’s ahead, ‎A future built on fear and dread. ‎We tell ourselves, “Just one more task, ‎One more achievement, then we’ll bask.” ‎‎Yet bask we don’t—there’s always more, ‎Another hill, another shore. ‎The finish line, it shifts, it fades, ‎A mirage born of plans we’ve made. ‎The coffee cools, untouched, alone, ‎While screens cast light on hearts of stone. ‎We scroll, we click, we swipe, we send, ‎Forgetting how to simply mend. ‎‎The meadow waits beyond the road, ‎Where wildflowers bloom and rivers flowed. ‎The sparrow sings, unhurried, free, ‎Its song a call to you and me. ‎Why can’t we stop, just for a breath, ‎To feel the earth, to cheat our death? ‎The sky is vast, its clouds don’t race, ‎They drift with calm, eternal grace. ‎‎I’ve seen the man who runs through dawn, ‎His eyes on goals from dusk till gone. ‎His shoes are worn, his spirit frayed, ‎Each step a debt that’s never paid. ‎I’ve seen the mother, stretched too thin, ‎Her laughter drowned by daily din. ‎She juggles time, her heart’s a clock, ‎Each tick a chain, each tock a lock. ‎‎Why the rush? The stars don’t flee, ‎They burn with patient majesty. ‎The oak stands firm, its roots dig deep, ‎No hurry in the dreams it keeps. ‎The river curves through stone and clay, ‎It finds its path, it knows its way. ‎No frantic pace, no desperate flight, ‎Just steady flow from day to night. ‎‎I walked a path through autumn’s glow, ‎Where leaves fell soft, and winds were slow. ‎The air was crisp, the world alive, ‎Each step a pulse, each breath a drive. ‎I saw the world in hues of gold, ‎A story whispered, ancient, old. ‎The trees didn’t rush to shed their leaves, ‎No haste in how the forest grieves. ‎‎I sat beneath a willow’s shade, ‎And watched the light and shadow fade. ‎The silence spoke, its voice so clear, ‎It drowned the noise of doubt and fear. ‎I felt the weight of time dissolve, ‎Each worry stilled, each knot resolved. ‎The world, it seemed, could wait a while, ‎Could spare a moment for a smile. ‎‎Why do we race to meet the end, ‎When life’s a curve, not just a bend? ‎The moments missed, they pile, they stack, ‎No coin, no key can bring them back. ‎The child’s small hand, the lover’s gaze, ‎The quiet dusk of softer days— ‎These slip away while we pursue ‎A prize that’s never quite in view. ‎‎The city hums, its pulse a roar, ‎Each neon sign screams, “More, more, more!” ‎But what’s the cost of all this speed, ‎This endless want, this gnawing need? ‎Our hearts grow heavy, minds grow dim, ‎The soul’s soft light begins to thin. ‎We trade our peace for fleeting gain, ‎And wear the scars of self-made pain. ‎‎So pause, dear soul, and lift your eyes, ‎Beyond the rush, the frantic cries. ‎The world will turn, it always does, ‎Without our strain, without our buzz. ‎The sunrise waits, the moon will rise, ‎No need to chase what fills the skies. ‎Each breath you take, each step you slow, ‎Reclaims the life you’re meant to know. ‎‎Why the rush? Let’s break the chain, ‎Let’s walk through life, not flee its pain. ‎The meadow calls, the river sings, ‎The heart finds peace in simple things. ‎A cup of tea, a friend’s soft laugh, ‎A moment’s pause, a photograph. ‎These are the truths that time can’t steal, ‎The quiet joys that make us real. ‎‎So let the clock tick on its own, ‎Its hands can’t claim the life you’ve sown. ‎Embrace the now, let worries cease, ‎Find in the stillness, boundless peace. ‎For in the end, when all is done, ‎It’s not the race, but love, we’ve won. ‎Why the rush? The heart’s own beat ‎Is all the time we’ll ever need. ‎‎‎‎

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