Wash your coffee cup. Set it out to dry. Notice it.
You put your hand in hers. She put her hand in yours. Once upon a time.
The fragile components closest to you now, those cherished and revered . . . will become clouds and will disperse to unknown skies.
Everything is impermanent. Buoyant logs float, but with attachment comes fear. Before reaching, consider non-attachment and ownership.
Moments pass. All of them. People walk away. Others enter. They all deserve the Freedom to do that.
Look to the west . . . at dusk.