The Lost Moment

Time flows slowly and steadily but the moment passes like lightning. The moment is a spark rising from the heart of time that sets souls ablaze, a kind of intoxication and joy that like wine clears away the rust of sorrow from the heart and frees a person from the bondage of the past and fear of the future. The moment is a deep rupture between what was and what is no longer; it is the wiping away of the mirror of memory from oblivion and the refuge of presence in the now. The moment opens a new window to the sky of life, a realm where hidden things are revealed. The moment is an alchemist that, in a single instant, turns copper into gold. The moment is the time of a friend’s smile, a beloved’s eyes, the blooming of a flower, and the balance of spring. The moment is the company of hand and glass, and that silent instant moment is expressed many times by Khayyam.