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Pondering at the Beach
January 18, 2024
Time slipping by is like sand in your hands,
No matter how hard you try, it will slowly
Slip through your fingers.
Fleeting moments,
In the snap of fingers,
In the blink of an eye,
The experience of living in the moment
Becomes a cloudy moment of the past.
Every moment is precious,
From the scaling of a mountain
To winning a competition
To the crinkly eyes of a smile.
Rather than wondering if you would've
Or should've
Just enjoy the beauty of the sand falling because
In a snap or a blink
It's gone.
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