By Michael Francis Leary

moments in one's life,
where time and space seem all too real -
daily toil of work and love,
labor and loss

we spend so much time moving
in and out of boxes,
whose shape and color leave us
separate, removed -
with but a window out, onto our dreams

then, there are moments -
graceful moments,
presenting themselves so clearly,
without the mask of daily routine,
without need -
moments that cry out in full

precious jewels are these -
tucked between the richness of laughter,
shimmering under the full sun of a smile -
they breathe deep
and set into motion a world
teeming with light and love

it is life to know each of these moments intimate,
to walk within each day with fear,
or with open heart -
to gaze upon painted canvas
and view only good intentions
or to see beyond surface and view the song

within this song, this glorious place of color and light,
of creative mind, of realized joy,
I find loved ones -
they make me breathe full,
make me step outside the boxes
to write, paint, laugh and dance

to find within all moments -
those of uncertain times,
of hope held onto with closed fist,
of dreams given life through the words of a friend -
the low yet enduring voice of that song

hearing its cry,
I relearn what each moment has taught -
of obligation, of need,
of what should be -
through my own voice and those of loved ones,
singing of that rarest of thread
that ties us all but to a single heart -
I am transformed again

you are one of the voices I hear,
brilliant in color and song -
how cherished a moment it is
bearing witness to such a sacred voice


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