Ephemeral Fantasies

The flickering glow of fire..
Transient- it enslaves us,
as the surreal fantasy of permanence,
makes a tantalising appearance.

But like embers sleeping into darkness,
Or footprints merging into the sea,
every moment flees into the everlasting void

But would the tree be a tree
if it had only the disappearing leaves?
Would we have the need to belong,
to enshrine every memory,
if we didn't wish for immortality?

Is it even possible to see,
without the shackles of illusion,
at the only eternally beautiful moment-
present, free yet ephemeral

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