The moment is tiny yet grand in scope.
It’s all that we have but riddled with hope.
The point of the arrow is sharp and true,
Threading its way through the expanding view.

It’s the only time we’ve ever had,
The only thing we we can hang on to.
Building our space around each new moment,
Time is woven into magical dreams.
With nothing left but the threads that we weave,
The tapestry unfolds for us to believe.