Between moments there is life.
The space in which provides a foundation to moments we remember.
The void between memories is forgetful.
Then, a light shines upon it from time to time.
The little things we do. Every day.
The habits we form.
We are who we are because of the void. The habits.
Once we notice, moments arrive and then we forget all over again.
Habits are the breath of our days. We don’t think about breathing all the time.
We just do.
—–
In case you are curious to read more poetry by me, I started a separate blog with only poetry. A few friends have joined me as well. It’s slow, but something.
Check it out here.