each quiet moment . must be captured and savored . they do not last long
delicate brushstrokes . paint the sky for a moment . but soon disappear
for a brief moment . the world lights up with colors . that will soon be lost
when the answer comes . it can seem so obvious . and yet be fleeting
the flower’s petals . both clock and calendar, tell . time is precious
out of the corner . of the eye, magic happens . and then slips away
in a wet spring snow . tracks are made; but within hours . will cease to exist
a fleeting moment has just passed, we have now moved on to the next one
the snow on the pine fleeting, will tomorrow be just a memory
not every path will still exist tomorrow travel while you can
Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
