Of the infinite

Number of moments that,

When stitched together

Will narrate our stories;

Perhaps the most important

Are the infinitesimal pockets

Of time between each one.
 

Brick to brick,

We skip from one

To the next,

On the road paving our lives;

And indulging in

A delicate game of

Hopscotch.
 

Faltering at cracks

That mark

The broken moments in time,

And hurtling down walkways

With gazes fixed

On a horizon

For moments yet to come.
 

The most poignant pauses

Are those we take at

The spaces between cobblestones

That decorate

Our sidewalks.
 

These lulls in time

Allow us

To cling on to

The wisps of

Already disappearing moments.
 

Quiet moments,

Moments spent in an embrace,

Moments of laughter and

Moments of peace,

Moments you wouldn’t ever

Wish to cease.