My Pulse and Breath

My pulse and breath, red blood circulating through my body, my brain awake, planning and imagining.  I begin this singular day, already passing...  Nothing stands still.  I am aging, my wife is aging, our children are aging, our grandchildren are growing... already passing, already passing... 

I would hold on to this one day, this hour, or this moment complete and yet unfinished, filled with apple blossom perfume and sparrow chatter... already passing, already passing... already gone.

I cannot hold on to anything real.  Each moment as perceived, is gone.  By the time I notice a bird in flight it is gone.  Everything is in motion, everywhere... in the universe, in this planet, in this mountain side, in our home, in our calendar and our clock... inside my own body, my pulse and my breath... already passing, already passing... already gone.

Only photographs and my words crystallize moments and thought around me, but they are not real... only snapshots of something that happened.  Reality never stands still, not even thousand year-old bristlecones.  They dance with the wind... already passing, already passing, already gone.

And yet... I still take pictures and write down words...