The moment

Wings of the future, they depend on how we hold

This moment, it’s ripe and ready unlike hidden gold

The shell’s already cracked, no more are we confined

But we aren’t riding that wind, held back by what’s assigned

Collection never stops, even as time scatters the pieces

We paint the shell, the palette’s the forehead creases

When the moment is embraced, not memory’s goad

Fresh hatchlings we become, despite the load

The sky does not allow lines to be drawn

Always open, somewhere there’s a dawn

It’s beautiful, we streak across and stay awhile

There’s never a reason to send our smiles into exile

Wings won’t grow waiting for the future

Time can be defeated only through humor

Laughter at every moment provides lift

To wings that carry us to bliss, life’s real gift