Wednesday, January 25, 2017

ode to the moment






.


This moment
as smooth
as a board,
and fresh,
this hour,
this day
as clean
as an untouched glass
--not a single
spiderweb
from the past:
we touch the moment
with our fingers,
we cut it
to size,
we direct
its blooming.
It's living,
it's alive:
it brings nothing from yesterday that can't be redeemed,
nothing from the lost past.


–Pablo Neruda



.







No comments:

Post a Comment