Oh the beauty of nature,
so marvelous I dare not attempt to capture it.
For what being could grasp
the familiar perfection of the greatest artist?

Yet I morn for such a loss,
as the moments pass unwillingly.
It will never be the same,
and I cannot hope to preserve its memory.

Shall I see another beauty,
quite like the one I have witnessed?
One that will bring me the same comfort,
and the same poem-inspiring awe?

Then I realize that I would only loose it too.
So the only solution that remains is to freeze time.
Yet it’s not possible,
as time trudges on through the sun and the rain.

What am I to do
with the view waning from my mind?
Not just the image, but the sound and the touch.
The experience missing its key parts.

Words and paintings and music
could never truly entrap the encounter.
But maybe it's better that way.
Completely and utterly Free