Sometimes all that exists is the desire. In these desperate empty moments where all that I can want is to do, to create, to tie, to hold, to reach for the brief moment of nothing, of stillness, of calm, of being lost.
These bitter-sweet moments are where I live, where I am alive. Where I have no aspiration, no desire, no want other than what is. Here and now, within this moment.
And then it is gone and I must yearn again.
It is in its briefness, it is in its passing that it is beautiful.
If it could be captured, held, imprisoned in time it would be nothing, just a pale image of the living moment.
There is only now.