Does a moment slip through your hand like a handful of sand? Silky and caressing, lingering slightly before slipping away?
Do you experience a moment as you would when trying to grasp water, you can feel that it is there but it just flows, using you as route but never really staying long enough for you to grasp?
Do you stand before a moment, eyes open and receptive, holding on to every tiny fraction of it in your mind, understanding that this is it?
Perhaps you do not know that the moment is a moment and you see it simply as a little knot in the string of life. And what if you know that the moment is the moment, and you simply cannot stay with it, cannot enjoy? If instead you race with your mind and thought on to another moment that isn’t what the moment before was destined to be?
And really one should ask, if the moment passed you by, if you rush ahead or are stuck so far behind, was it a true moment in time?
I search for you, moment. I think you hold some answer inside. I think you will be it, something, anything. But by chasing you I think you have been or will be yet and I will be blind, because you will not hold an answer and you might not be “it”, but you are something that it worthy and I will fail to give you – a moment of my time.