This week’s theme: ephemeral
Ephemeral: some thing lasting a short while…
On a gravestone carved in stone is an angel or a cherub posing as if in thought. While the stone may last thousand years, her thoughts are ephemeral.
Thought come and go like a butterflies in a gale. Time stands still while thoughts present themselves in an instant, replaced by others over and over without limit.
‘What were you thinking?’ she asked.
‘Oh nothing really,’ he answered, pausing and knowing he can never unravel the stream, the train, the day-dream of illusive thoughts.
As a writer I’m fascinated by the ephemeral nature of thoughts; those slippery eels, wisps of smoke, a wobbly bubble, a scent on a breeze. How do they begin and where do they go?While I grab a few, others escape, each spawning countless others and all unique to me; they are me.
‘We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make our world.’ Buddha