moments. not things.
by Misty Dawn
hair grays. engines fail. people break. people break you. you break people. dust only moves, always resettling. lemons go bad. fashions fade. bones rot. and money runs out. but moments . . . those are stored in the soul. even what memory distorts, the soul has absorbed. the love. the grace. the morning kisses from the sun. the comfort from a friend. the hug. the magic of life. the Cross. the forgiveness. the music. the tastes of freedom. the tastes of honey, or Tennessee whiskey. it’s these moments, stored in the soul, that’ll sit with you, and within you, always.