I open my eyes and look at the
early morning clouds floating
over the peaceful Kansas plains.
Some are white and some are
blue. I look at them in a daze and
dream of being with you.
Certain moments of your life are so
potent, so rich, so meaningful, so true,
so righteous, that they live forever.
Your life is a series of moments, some
you regret and need to forget. Some
of those righteous ones are living realities,
as present now as they ever were, waiting
to be revisited by anyone who has learned
to step outside time's relentless march and
step into that vast, patient space where those
righteous moments dwell.
Collect moments , not things. Things rust,
get in the way, become hard to look at and
lose their beauty. But those special moments
are always there, yearning to be recalled.
You were one of those righteous moments
in my life, still always there, waiting to be recalled. Jon York 2025
Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 2:40 AM UTC
I open my eyes and look at the
early morning clouds floating
over the peaceful Kansas plains.
Some are white and some are
blue. I look at them in a daze and
dream of being with you.
Certain moments of your life are so
potent, so rich, so meaningful, so true,
so righteous, that they live forever.
Your life is a series of moments, some
you regret and need to forget. Some
of those righteous ones are living realities,
as present now as they ever were, waiting
to be revisited by anyone who has learned
to step outside time's relentless march and
step into that vast, patient space where those
righteous moments dwell.
Collect moments , not things. Things rust,
get in the way, become hard to look at and
lose their beauty. But those special moments
are always there, yearning to be recalled.
You were one of those righteous moments
in my life, still always there, waiting to be recalled. Jon York 2025
