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…