The Giver of Moments

In the distance. In the fog.
There is someone walking.

There is a sun too.
A vague presence.
Light without heat.
Just enough

that you are not walking in darkness.
Just enough that you can see where you are walking
in the moment.

You have found that enough.
The moment.
The place where sand meets the soles of your feet.
Where destinations have no meanings.
Destinations after all, come and go.
But the moment is always with you.

Here in the north, there is no Gulf Stream.
The water, when it laps your feet
is bitter cold. And then it recedes.
Your feet sink a bit deeper in the sand.

Somewhere in the distance. Unseen,
A child laughs.
You cannot help but smile,
remembering how long you lived in that innocence.
Another time and place in the fog.

There comes a time, on the best of days,
when you cannot see another soul in the fog
and you are alone with your God,
and you are reminded of his grace and kindness,
the giver of moments.

About this poem.

As I write this, I am at Cape Cod. I walk the beaches. I sit in diners writing. I spend time with my family. In a life full of too much that is not mine, these moments are precious.

The truth is, most moments are good. But we lose them as we look back or look foward and let ourselves get lost in feelings, fears and worry that have no place in the now. I love the now. It is one of God’s great gifts. If we are able to claim it,

Tom