All my life has been lived for this one moment;
what if it seems inconsequential? – to
be swallowed by routine as uneventful,
as though a far greater one lay in store.
Yet, experience shows me each moment is
no different in duration, though it bears
a semblance of endurance when it’s cherished,
or regretted, it passes, as does this.
Or, anomalously, periods of time
appear as moments, whose wide scale the present
moment scans, the mundane the high sublime
holds, eternity now to represent.
Never thus consider a moment dull
when living it; it’s living to the full.
