small things, instant things that flood my wandering eyes,
sudden chance encounters, opening sight to His bright.
suddenly, capturing me, a vision of things beyond,
they sparkle effervescently and then are gone.
why do moments taunt me, when sudden impressions leap?
it is the shock that’s fractional, sparks the mystical
sudden ethereal beauty’s dancing on life’s stage.
vision’s trajectory etching echoes on my soul
what was speeding, birthed a treasure, leaving smoothly through the door.
frail things, and strange things can appear with élan,
they startle us and cause, the gasp with surprise,
they open up our mindset and suddenly shout.
a flash, in a trice, they’ve left me with doubt.
Did I see it, but imagined, what can’t be conceived?
was it looking or dreaming that caused me to freeze?
I see it in people, I see it in eyes,
I see it in fragments when ever you slide.
the wisps of a hair in the eyes of a child,
the twist of a finger that wanders so idle.
It’s motion and twitches and facial delight,
when laughter is bursting and life’s not a fight.
there is joy’s interaction, there is grief’s somber cling,
there are shrieks of surprise as the water is flinging.
yet, all of the treasures of life’s careful tread,
get left tattered as spindrift in memories bin.
the power of beauty, the grasp of the wise,is opened in moments of intense surprise.
the flash of a bee’s wing, the silk of the dew,
the sparkle and glint of the foam in the flume.
we must take the offering and turn to attend, the reality of life is found only then.
the power of living, the quest to survive is often the brusque voice that cuts off the vibe.
the gossamer silk of the precious/ethereal,
comes wishing through darkness to offer us life.
it is easy to miss it, to simply ignore, the passage of these, the exquisite/sublime.
they tell us that moments when noticed and seen, can give us a grandeur eternally green.
we can not imprison these moments so fair, they simply degenerate in stuffy thick air.
I’m often just left with the tantalizing hint, of fragrance once tasted but now on the wind.
so I open myself up, I’m sure I’ll not squint,
the next time that moment comes by to alight.
the moment while treasured will only exist,
in that fragment of time caught just when I blink!
Author – Bill Tidsbury