Clouds of Existing: Poetry

I flew upwards
on wings dispensed
by unseen hands

I didn't question,
didn't think

Just drifted on
clouds of Existing

If you just exist,
you realize every moment
for what it is:

painfully, tragically short
exuberantly, disturbingly gone
chaotically, mournfully missed

It is our trying to grasp
these moments,
holding them so close to
us so they don't dissipate,
clinging to both their
joy and pain,
that creates so many sorrows

And in doing so,
we guarantee that our
current moments will
never match or
overcome them

So drift on clouds
of Existing:
live life to the fullest
every moment that
you can.

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