Ephemeral

The draw of air is delicate and light. I can feel, so close, the inner folds of my lips drifting past each other. Like the word, the sensation lasts just for a few seconds before the last syllable drifts away.

I came across this word, for the first time, in The Little Prince. A book close to my heart, and a reminder of the beauty of French Literature, it taught me much about the value of looking beyond appearances and the appreciation of watching the world through the wonder and curiosity of a child's eyes.

The word connotes, through its softness, the fragility of what it describes. There is a beauty in what does not last, for appreciation is found not in years of shallow interest, but found in quality--the sweetness of a second passing by. It can be found in the sip of warm tea on winter nights or the inhale of Spring's arrival. It is a beauty captured in what can never last, found in the blurred oranges of The Little Prince's favorite: sunsets.