Stuck in a Moment

When Frost wrote about the road less travelled - is this what he was talking about ?

When we are old and grey and look at the years gone by - will we think of days like this when we felt so young and alive and that everything was possible and within reach ?

Will we recall the laughter and the happiness ?



That everything is brighter and hopeful in the sunshine ?



That happiness has a color and it is all yellow






That our life was marked with great changes and a river runs through it ?




Or thoughts that kept us occupied ?



Will we stand as tall as the trees that grow besides our years ?



Or have that special spring in our steps ?





Will we think of the kind skies that watched over us ?



or the moonlight that blinded us ?




Will the dancing leaves still fill us with wonder ?




Will we know who is two steps behind us ?















We can measure our lives by the days , the weeks , the months and years even.
We can try and remember to forget ..and be awed when we realise that we've forgotten how much we do infact remember.But the worth of everything that is worth the mettle in our worlds is always measured in moments .

Moments.

I once read a book where there was a joke that the perfect autumn day occurs more frequently in ones memory than in reality .This weekend was the exception in my life to this rule.

Thank God I have enough.