Some moments come;
they pass,
still,
they haunt us, defenselessly,
for long,
crossing all limits
time places on us.

In our rejoice,
as in our mourning,
these moments blind us
from within;
making us strong,
holding our hopes firm
as if, our perfectly mirrored
hopes would have died
but for these moments.

Our most beauteous
remembrances
hang heavily on these
moments
but
on the abyss,
surrounding these moments,
would be our ugly ones too.

Still, sometimes, these
moments frighten us,
unrelentingly,
telling us
what walks into us,
surreptitiously,
through these moments
are dreams
to live by.