They come and go.
That is their nature.
To carry us along with them to and fro.
Covered in lint or filled with a glow.
Our attention is caught like fuzz on a screen or wings in a web.
Tearing loose then, flying free like a dandelion seed.
We flit around, drifting, until the next distraction unfolds its sticky threads or sucks like a wind tunnel to draw us in and trap us momentarily.
Open our eyes!
Be aware before the mesh envelops our time and space!
Remain present and wide open, peripheral working, eyes in the back of the head like a mother with her wayward child.