I’m forever blowing bubbles
Pretty bubbles in the air
They fly so high, nearly reach the sky
Then like my dreams they fade and die
When you look at a bubble, what do you see? Do they reflect reality? They are ethereal. Like a thought. A kiss. A memory.
They exist for only a moment. Yet resonate in our memory long after.
They make us wonder: What did I just see?
The possibilities are endless. You ask — is it real? Does it matter?
Are they reflections of our existence? A moment out of a million? A billion? Out of a nanosecond?
It doesn’t matter if their existence makes a difference in the world. A difference in my life, or yours. All that matters is they are beautiful. Fleeting. They float on air. And for the briefest of moments, they exist.
As do we.