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.
Until next time...