What We Forget
The most delicate threads on earth.
Sometimes, I think the world forgets how so touched it is by the small moments of peoples lives; the moments of a single idea beaming out and covering the world like a blanket. I think people forget those blankets were once a single thread, unformed, puny, delicate.
Ideas are so fast, arriving and departing, most times not even touching the ground. But if just for an instance, a twinkling little moment, if it did, if it could reach all the way down and land on solid ground, then just maybe it could become something more. Maybe.