Time Moves On

 

  Many years have passed since those days, but when I close my eyes, I can still see that perfect moment when the sun crested the tops of the buildings and spilled down the sides, a waterfall of light. The way it rolled accross the river, cascading sparkles across the surface, until it reached my toes and bathed me in warmth. Closing my eyes to feel the sun warming my cheeks as the sounds of the city swelled.

   Many years have passed now, and I am not as young as I once was. The crystalline moments of my youth are slowly but surely begining to slip and scatter, and someday, even memories as bright as these may be lost. Fourtunately, many weren't as pleasant, and I'd be rather happy to have forget them entirely sooner. Alas, time sways to the whim of no man, and at her mercy I grow older, though not neccessarily wiser.

   I have certainly grown to appreciate the comfort of a regular bed. Sleeping on the pavement these days would most likely be more than my bones could bear. But there is, however, something to be said for those mornings by the river.

    I often find myself longing to return to that old bench, coffee in hand, and expectance in my eyes for another glimpse of that sunrise. I keep telling myself I'll go back one day for another look, but as you age, you seem to find yourself saying a lot of things that are much easier said than done. There are so many places I long to return to, but wonder, would it be the same this time, or was part of the magic the then, AND the there....