How many billion tiny moments constitute a life?
Each one perfectly formed; each one unique.
Some overlooked, some taken for granted; others held in highest reverence.
Elusive, they slip through our fingers, cascading like a waterfall.
Trying to hold onto a single one is like trying to preserve the first flake of new-fallen snow
or the first bite of a freshly picked strawberry,
or the scent of a line-dried sheet.
I cradle the sweetest moments, of both memory and dream, in the remote forests of my mind.
There they lie, safely encased in a coffin of glass, awaiting true love's kiss to animate them once more.
Like time, we are ever-moving, ever-changing, with this push toward the eternal.
What was once comfortable becomes threadbare. What used to fit no longer feels right.
We shed our skins and our inhibitions;
we shed our fears.
Like dunes on the beach, we shift with the prevailing winds and tides,
becoming ripples across the sands of time.
Like Every Grain of Sand
Until next time...
Anne