Will you ever see another moment when you sit down in your favorite, worn, off-color chair, rocking a perfect rhythm, the squeak playing the right track? When the hallway outside your condo is free of racing children and quiet reigns at last inside and out? When your pets are curled up, snug and silent, as your partner sleeps silently abed in the other room? When the time is irrelevant besides late night-slash-premature morning in a frosty, February hour? When your newborn quiets, nearly effortlessly, adorning your chest and small lungs exhaling soft bursts from an infant nose across your skin? When, by the glow of a lamp, a single bulb in a far corner, gives enough for your eyes to travel the delicate hairs and soft flesh, cushioned and unmarred? When thin fingers wrap around your thumb, tiny fingernails scraping slightly against the pad of your digit? When everything simple, still precious, never needs you to stand, but is soothed by rocking and sitting? When satisfaction is met? Will you ever see another moment exactly like that? No. Never again.
And thank you, @, for giving me this perspective. One night, seize the day bloomed a new meaning for me.