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Moments

April 6, 2020

40 of 47

Forever — is composed of Nows —

‘Tis not a different time —

Except for Infiniteness —

And Latitude of Home —

 

From this — experienced Here —

Remove the Dates — to These —

Let Months dissolve in further Months —

And Years — exhale in Years —

 

Without Debate — or Pause —

Or Celebrated Days —

No different Our Years would be

From Anno Domini’s

Emily Dickinson

 

 

This world wide Moment is actually billions of them.

By now you have encountered any number of unique incidents, pieces of what is seen or heard that are, for now, great within you. When times get weird, the weird is undeniable. We are left to observe, because we are told to stop doing the things that we have done our whole life.

 

“Forever — is composed of Nows —

‘Tis not a different time —

Except for Infiniteness —

And Latitude of Home —”

The unmemorable, unthinking things now are gone, or if left in our lives, subject to consideration now that our platforms for living have reduced to a tiny stage:

The weather can seem exquisite.

My son works in our living room. “I have spent more time in this room than all the other times, combined, that I have been in the house, over 28 years.”

A woman, halting, awaits her 2 Meter Segregation to collapse at the Cumberland Farms sales counter, and quietly buys a pack of cigarettes as she otherwise avoids death.

We eat, together, at a table, every night, for the first time, well, ever.

Driving to pick up food, going at the maximum speed allowed by police tolerance on an empty highway, three motorcycles fly by, perhaps at 100MPH, helmetless in a time of extreme death defiance.

Our yard is immaculate (relatively)

The dishwasher is used every other day. Our Recyclable Bin us filled to overflowing every week. Our refrigerator is full of prepared food, waiting.

 

“From this — experienced Here —

Remove the Dates — to These —

Let Months dissolve in further Months —

And Years — exhale in Years —”

But, now, this week is a Moment that has been a Moment every year for 2,000. Stopping unthinking, some have paused every year, simply to remember that something happened that we do not understand (at least I do not) but changed everything for those it changed.

“Without Debate — or Pause —

Or Celebrated Days —

No different Our Years would be

From Anno Domini’s —”

In a Moment like these, our perspective is broken away from daily survival, of incidental pleasure, or failure and success. We see, unclearly, larger wheels, and much tinier realities than life usually offers.

Forever — is composed of Nows

Easter is Sunday.

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