Seconds in the Sunrise

How swiftly the strained honey

of [light]

flows into darkness . . .

as if what exists, exists

so that it can be lost

and become precious

---Lisel Mueller (In Passing)

I've been thinking a lot about fleeting, sparkling, days.  Sometimes days at home with plenty of babies can pass so slowly, and yet their childhood seems to be slipping from me as quickly as beads from a loose string.  I'm grateful for so many moments I can hold, like something precious in my hand.

On Saturday--at sunrise---I met Morgan and her horse, Tanga, in the pasture to capture a few honeyed moments of her present life.  She was dressed in her white dress, ready for baptism, and full of girlish infatuation for her horse.  It's a moment that will pass as quickly as the seconds of a single sunrise.  But in passing, and in the years still to pass, it will only become more precious.