Everything Passes

Everything passes.

A phrase offered to the sufferer

as a gentle hand of comfort —

a soothing reminder

that this moment is not forever,

that whatever pain you’re enduring

is as fleeting as a road sign on a long highway.

It’s merely one moment in time,

and we move past it.

But in the quiet hours of the night,

these words are a knot in my stomach,

an ache in my chest.

Everything will pass.

I contemplate these words

as the hours tick past,

over and over

and all we can do is watch it happen.

Or even worse,

we look away

only to return and find it gone completely.

The air that we’re breathing,

the ground upon which we stand,

the eyes into which we gaze,

the whispers and roars and giggles and cackles and screams

that we hear in this moment —

will soon be gone.

But each past moment

forms an etch in your brain

that will remain.

And each current moment

holds a raw, tangible tone

that you can feel in your bones.

And each future moment

contains an image that you have not yet formed,

waiting for you to find it.

And all of these moments make it worthwhile.