Chasing Daylight

Hovering over everything
the skies have dimmed, the tea's gone cold
no one to greet me, as we run against time;
I am going home, on air
where time is irrelevant
unlike the ground below us
which runs on clocks
and where lives
are governed by sleep,
but here,
nothing matters.
We are in a void
of stillness and insignificance
so lonely, so isolated
so unnervingly bare
where the only thing we can do
is chase daylight
which eludes us until
the rumble of engines brings us round
from our timeless sleep
and says "Here you are."
And light rushes in, almost unprecedented,
and life begins again.