Moments
Ubiquitous time resting in polarities of heartache and eternal euphoria. A loving glance, touch, etched in the permanence of our hearts with love. Spoken anger and impatience, how I wish we could move space and gently fold back time. The sweet smell of warm August nights and honeysuckle, to remind us of the days, less worry and bountiful joy. The sound of a siren passing by in an otherwise ordinary moment, resurrects the sharp memory of the day our lives changed forever. Sunday mornings, the quiet, a gift bestowed on us, to reset, rest, and gently remind us to settle into the rituals of nurturing routine and simplicity. Looking out the window of the airplane on the way to say goodbye to a loved one, as you fly above the clouds you find peace and understanding that the universe is made of so much more than our limited senses comprehend. That first bite of warm apple pie that transports you to sitting at your Grandmothers table and the ever-present scent of cinnamon in her kitchen and the comfort of her unwavering love. Our moments, akin to a leaf floating on the ocean, she flows with the tide, the sun and moon decidedly dictate her path. The leaf surely experiencing days of glorious sunshine and tumultuous storms, all the while floating, always moving and never in control. Her story started long ago, she has travelled from limb to land, with tales of wind and glory. Equally fragile and strong, storing moments, built on a continuum connected time . The leaf of autumn, much like you and I. Glorious in her lifelong story, travelling in moments, without a sound.
By Alisa Hutton
dustedwords 
Welcome back. Nicely done. I like the use of polarities. This reminds me of Billy Joel’s song “Summer Highland Falls,” where he speaks of things being either “sadness or euphoria.” Keith
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Thank you, Keith and I hope you are doing well! It isn’t very often these days I have the affordability of time/space to write but I sure cherish the times when I am able to.
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We are well. We try to get outside – yard work, walks, safe errands – as much as possible.
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Beautifully written, Alisa. There is a graceful rhythm in each word that connects me to one of Nature’s smallest wonders upon which the journey is no less small and every bit as grand. Thank you!
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