Fleeting it may be
the moment is now
to notice
to embrace
to listen
to believe
to stop
to play
In that space between that which defines the dailiness of our days, I am want to remind myself that this is *it*.
This is the "ever after", the "someday", the "if only".
Time to plant flowers and leave dishes.
Bake bread and ignore laundry.
Build tents out of blankets and make a sleep-over with my family.
The dream exists. It is here between me and you and them and us.
Write now.
Paint now.
Absorb now.
That which we pine for is here.
It will never be perfect.
Weeds will always need tending.
Paint will need to be peeled.
Baby clothes need to be rotated.
Dinner to be made.
Laundry to be folded.
The key, it seems, is to carve out space within our reality and challenge ourselves to enjoy it ...
the bubbling water, the stained, yet, clean t-shirts, the rocks and sand that artfully litter the backyard, and the strewn about DVDs with mismatched cases.
This is what I will yearn for now. 10 years from now, 10 days from now, 10 minutes from now. I yearn now.
