a slim moment of inspiration
from one moment to another, a cloud is never the same.
from one moment to another, a living thing is never the same.
it is either growing, or dying. life is sworn to constant change.
the clearest water is in motion benieth the surface.
if you are not growing, you are dying.
if there is no forward motion, there is a losing frantic struggle, a frantic... failure.
sliding backwards.
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death no longer has it's hold
but have we a hold on death?
unable to let go what must be loosed from our stubborn grip
unable to forget ourselves for one moment and simply, grudgingly, grow.
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it's been there all my life
it hasn't given up on me
but have i given up on it
is it my frantic failure
or my inspiration
my growth
creation groans as if in labor
for apart from death, there is no static state