There is that moment, when something pulls you, beckoning.  You follow, not knowing if what you’re feeling is real or a dream.  You feel something in the wind, about to happen, and time spins and floats around you until you are completely encompassed in a fleeting moment.  You try to catch it, but it escapes your grasp only to land on your palm at its own pace.  Time cannot be rushed, although it may flutter and race on its own, it cannot be pushed or altered in its path.  A simple breath can change it, but human hands, oh no.  Your time will come when you will join the wind.  Just wait, one day it will sweep you away with it, and you will float on air away with time. 

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