it’s not the moment that belongs
to me. moments do not belong.
only the contents within belong.
yes. even as the moments fall
away, what is held within them
clings… and often remains…
floating in the ether of the
present, fighting for an instant
of respectful acknowledgment
that it, too, wishes to witness
the rising of the sun, raging and
purposeful and new, over the
blazing and acquiescent horizon
that waits with ardent consciousness.
