What if life is to be lived in the beauty of each moment as it twists and curls with the substance of time. To not look at time as setting but a field of love, laughter, and heartache. To truly feel without wayward thought. To Be.
What if my mother doesn’t have to be grounded or centered but to enjoy those moments that come and come and come – never to look back again. To look not look forward but to walk as each moment approaches with the ache or joy expressed through feeling.
The ledge of each moment beckons to us.
How does it become you?