Our very existence is comprised of one moment replacing the next. After its role in the greatly debated, but as yet unknown grand scheme, each moment is replaced by yet another, just as it has from whatever beginning there may have been to whatever end may come.
The earliest moments of eons ago are lost to us as if they never existed at all, and came to pass despite our knowledge of such, just as eons from now, every moment we experience will be lost, just as if it had never been at all, to whatever conscious entities may dwell in such impending recesses of time...just as the moments each one of us have not found to be significant enough to remember in our own personal conscious awareness have already been lost to us, both individually and as a collective whole, despite having been. The tragedy of this is that far more moments are forgotten than will ever be remembered, despite every single moment having an impact on the next, even if it appears that it does not.
Why, then, do the moments remembered seem to have so much more of an impact upon us and the moments to come than the moments we have forgotten? Because they are the moments that create and destroy. They are the moments that bring sorrow and joy. They are the moments that matter most, for whatever significance they hold. They are the moments that make the greatly debated, but as yet unknown grand scheme so grand.
This moment…this very moment…this is the moment for each of us to make every remaining moment in our conscious awareness a moment to remember, for all too soon, our moment will be gone, and the only thing that will ever matter is what we made of each moment in our own moment of existence.
The first line is supposed to be tabbed, but whether I tab or space, it posts it with no indention. I know that for some, paragraphs are not considered poetry, but for me, it is, because it is still my thoughts bleeding out just as if the layout were otherwise.