my fleeting moments at dawn

last evening,

my heart surged,

a trembling wave of want,

for futures still unnamed,

like wildflowers under frost.

but on my return,

These dreams had aged

Into mere echoes,

soft as breath on glass,

slipping away like smoke

into the arms of tomorrow.

my existence

a collection of nows and remembered yesterdays, the

unseen fading into nothing like stars swallowed by dawn.

once,

i could have mourned in silence

for what I couldn’t grasp.

now,

i embrace the dance of life,

falling deeply in love with the fleeting.

the unseen?

it holds no sway here.

my life?

a canvas for tomorrow.

and last night,

like every night,

we are but whisps of air

impermanent,

insignificant,

yet infinitely precious.