Michele and I
watch, as snow pure
streams worm down over
the grays and reddish umbers
of mountain granite,
both of us
charmed with the
fleetingness of shapes,
and how it streams freely
around and throughout all it
touches, and how the musicalness
of flowing water (to our ears) embodies
the wayward lightness of moments….

And as we test various
angles and shutter speeds
(Hoping to capture
the magic
of moments)
the flow suddenly
strengthens, and an
odd water figure appears,
sitting stoically staring at us shifting
in the briefness of streaming seconds…. Then it
.
becomes clear how
life moves in moments,
and how with each breath
there is constant action
in all things (visible
and invisible) as
nothing in creation
ever remains motionless….
a dance of moments
in the Creator’s
breath, in which life’s
greater lessons and mysteries
can be understood at times simply
as the moon’s reflection floating in
an old water barrel, or in the
heavy drops that form on
leaf tips, (as fleetingly
beautiful as a
mother's tears)
or how in each droplet
exist a myriad of microbes
and soulish reflections that all
surrender to the swish and swirl
of living’s ephemerality’s….
.
Life’s dance of moments fades so fast
the scent of time in mem’ry’s cast
reminding us of all things past,
the days pass quickly,
the night turns dark and vast,
but nothing remains… nothing lasts…
.
richard lloyd cederberg
1/2022


                Between the Cracks - A Monumental Journey Series