We live in the dream that all are set according to our preferred timeline.
When they stop or where to begin.
But we couldn’t.
There are no bounds or limits.
What will happen, will happen.
The ball will keep on rolling
Even as we choose to stand still.
Time is just a concept.
It can move slowly or slip too fast.
Sundays will come and return.
Even permanence becomes a mere transience.
I hope I never forget the beauty of full moon and the night sky,
of watching milk make galaxies even in my darkest cup of coffee,
the warm ray of sunshine that keeps my cheeks rosy
or seeing plants grow despite my scarce caring capacity.
Most specially, the kind strangers and the music that vibrates around that make life easy.
I hope I never forget to count these bits of heaven whether the cup’s half full or half empty.