Calendar pages flip from one month to the next. The year comes closer to the edge. Time lasts only long enough to be treasured, but will expire as it always does. October is a month to be appreciated. The colours of the season will only last so long. Autumn is like that, so much so that you forget summer was even here.
Beyond the sky, behind your eyes, only for a time. Will you recognize what has to be done and why? Keep looking, hard and fast, don’t let inspiration pass you by.
We can’t take back days we deny ourselves the courage to rise above ailments that have persisted for too long a time. Nestled only in memory, only our perception will allow a greater vista than what we have experienced. Can we write about the past in present tense, overlooking our faults and frailties? When does it become fiction, and when will we realize its inaccuracy?
Nights arrive earlier. Darkness is thicker: longer. You have to look further to find the light. It is there, just not as it was. Is anything ever as it was?