Sitting together just on the edge of wonder,
she said to him: “What if this is the last time
we will see this startling beauty?
What if there is not a next time?”
Moments passed before he leaned closer to her
and smiled: “Then we will have had this moment,
and no one else can claim it. It belongs
only to us.”
This moment, detached from yesterday,
not anticipating tomorrow, is the
raw reality of life.
It is the one-act play repeated again and
again. Lines change. Costumes vary,
the audience applauds or sits in bewildered silence.
And all that really matters is that I have filled the
moment with the fullness of myself, not for
the sake of self, but to honor that slender span
of life that is validated not by yesterday nor
by tomorrow’s headlines, but by the
experience of a profound engagement
with the present.
If we never sit on this bench again,
if the sun never falls across your shoulders
again like it did today,
if there is no next time,
I will forever be grateful for this one moment
when life happened, really happened,
and we knew it.
Shining Spirit 
I am grateful for these moments but selfishly hope for a few more next times.