Like the drops falling from the sky….

Like the early morning glow….

Like the moth around a flame….

And like the morning glory’s bloom….

Every moment slips out of our hand,

Every dawn has a dusk;

But every twilight leads to something new.

It seems like a transition…this life,

Sharing, revealing, surprising, maneuvering,

Making us, then breaking to nothing and then again re-molding us……

If only we could learn the skill to be strong….

To hold it on with a smile when it splashes and thunders or rains…

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