By Martin Falatic
Written 2000-02-03
Revised 2000-02-03

A moment exists between lives
Between what we know, and what we refuse to see
You might think of it as a mirror…
But which is the reflection
And which is the truth?

The moment may be felt in a typical way
In the depth of despair,
Or at the height of passion.
When the woods are quiet and the breeze, cool,
Or in the harsh glare of lightning
Before the terrible fury of thunder.

The moment may come unexpectedly,
The sudden tear in a lonely eye
On a long drive home.
The memory of a smile, or a kiss.
Or of discord…
A troubled night’s dreams brought to bear.

Lucidity.
Fantasy.
A simple question, unanswered…
Unanswerable.

It is where the path truly splits,
Old hopes and fears meeting uncertainty.
A moment of regret mingled with faith,
Burning the mind and the heart,
Fusing them together.

Which path to take,
As we stare into ourselves?
Is it better to change,
Diverge suddenly,
Or forge ahead?
To quit? To grow?
To forget? To trust?

To wait and see?

The moments are all we have…

It is in the mind’s purview
To want to count them,
However endless they are,
And find solace in the work.

The heart does not know Time,
It is filled with past and possibility…
The weight of memory,
The strength of ignorance,
The burden of hope.

A moment passes,
And life continues
With bluster and fanfare,
Or tempered resolve.
A change is wrought,
A chance is taken.
To quit? To grow?
To forget? To trust?

To wait and see…