i used to run through fields
laughing, blowing bubbles
floating up, away
off to Who-knows-where
…
now I watch the bubbles
burst, burst, burst –
dreams, illusions, hopes,
bursting into nothingness
…
time and death bursting
all our bubbles
for we are here
but for a time
…
till some child runs
again through fields
of green, blowing bubbles
that float… up and up
…
swelling, rising, not yet bursting
each bubble its own
never to be repeated self
precious beyond belief
…
while we in our old age
move toward the end of time
evaporating into eternity
returning Whence we came.
Bubble
– Gordon C. Stewart, @ 2004
Bubbles, the perfect example of the impermanence of life, the moment of of real time that we are…Yes how beautiful in the sunlight like each flower, seed and leaf that comes and goes.
LikeLike
Thank you, Karin. “The voice said, ‘Cry’. And he said, ‘What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field:
The grass withers, the flower fades because the Spirit of the LORD blows upon it. Surely the people is grass. The grass withers, the flower fades: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.’ I, even I, am he that comforts you.”
LikeLike