Passing Ships

One horizon shrinks while another expands, takes hold of the All of you. You want so much to possess the gift just as it is being pulled from your grasp. No amount of grip or strength of you can keep this from happening. All you can do is watch, stare, drill into the moment with every fiber of you, and then grieve. Howl for what will never be, for the golden blessing of having found your moment, having won the bet that could never be won, for stumbling onto the mother lode. Only it's not yours to own. It asks of you what you no longer have to offer. Tough luck that one.