Then one day it just ends. The inexplicable way things begin and end. Like some pain in a joint or a job or the last of that awful, single-ply toilet paper roll you bought thinking it was the normal kind. One day it’s over, gone forever, forgotten. Things pass through, we pass through, and if you’re not looking out the window (or you’re seated on the wrong side of the plane), you’ll miss it. Life comes in shards. Most miss the sunset, even more, the sunrise. Nothing about this life is ordinary though it may seem so. Look a little harder: that rock on the horizon is no rock, it just moved.

Categories: inspiration, Poetry

Tags: Creative Nonfiction, mindfulness, Poetry, prose