No two moments



No two moments are the same.

The vision framed by my window is just a tiny portion of the world.
I can’t even see what is behind this building
or those things to each side.
My sight stretches to the brow of a hill less than three miles away.
By day it this horizon is marked by cars driving along the highway
while at night it is marked out by a broken chain of overhead lights
beneath which the headlamps chase each other in both directions.

No two moments are the same.

even as my tired braincells waver and expire
beneath skin wrinkling with age
babies are screaming at the first shock of air on their skin,
their fresh cells reproducing as they feed,
and out there, for further than the eye can see,
invisible things are happening,
in the air, on the earth and beneath it.
Things too tiny to comprehend,
involving creatures of amoebic proportions,
and larger events which are easy to see.
Always since the beginning of time, this has been so.

No two moments are the same.

It could not be otherwise.
We let it pass without thought or comment,
but sometimes we wee something and we recognose its beauty.
It may be a rare sight, or something not out of the ordinary
which strikes us, just this once, for some unknowable reason.
This evenong I had one of those moments. I was sleepy
and thinking of taking an early night for a change.
I keep my curtains open all night,
so I can see the sky as it changes

No two moments are the same.

There have been some beautiful sunsets lately
and tonight was no exception.
It was full of orange and blue.
I have painted my bedroom in these shades
to remind me of the evening sky.
I watched until the amber disappeared,
and then carried on with my writing.
After a while I looked up again, and it was as if the sky
was draped in rippled satin fabric of purest silk
in the shade of the bluest eyes,
and lightly illuminated from behind.

No two moments are the same.

I must have seen similar sights over the years.
Perhaps it wasn’t particularly dramatic, but at that moment
its loveliness caught at my throat.
I could so easily have missed it,
and never had the chance again.
Although I may see many skies of similar beauty,
I am glad I looked up when I did,
because no two moment are the same.

©Jane Paterson Basil


12 thoughts on “No two moments

    1. I often think about it, particularly when I’m on trains – if I see a beautiful tree or something, I think about how, if I pass the same way again the next day, although it will look the same, there will be minute differences caused by weather conditions, growth and death.
      Maybe I should write a book of poetry titled ‘The meaningless thoughts of a madwoman.’ 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I think you’re touching on the philosophy of the reality of personal experience vs reality beyond our experience. Thoughts can imagine and travel, but not our physicality. Hmm!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Not meaningless. Not mad. Quite sane and grounded in fact 🙂 And a beautiful poem. We have had stunning sunsets here too. I seem to be forever rushing out with my camera to capture them, but somehow the true essence is never there. I guess some things are not meant to be captured and frozen.

    Liked by 1 person

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