Life – is but a moment –

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– is but a moment –

‘Twas said life starts 
With a great holler,
Then sixty seconds
You’d grown taller,
As time beckoned
For a minute later,
All sixty of the hour
You’d hear mention,
Heads to twenty-four
Er be a day’s attention,
Like the budding flower 
Has sunshine’s intention
In day’s bloom to discover, 
For if the gods aim so ye last
One may find feel to be a lover,
Afore life is but a moment passed! 

                               © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Music - Paris Jazz
Imagery - assorted private & public
Poem Recital - author, Jean-Jacques Fournier

						written in Sweetsburg
 						       April 22, 2021 

13 thoughts on “Life – is but a moment –

    • Thank you Paulette. For profound, I trust your judgment. As to graphic, it is without question, for what can be more so than the ticking away, in the matter of seconds, minutes and hours etc. of our lives, ever so evident in the reflection of ourselves, everywhere we look. Thus so as one finds this sweat life ever fading from our reach and eventually beyond our grasp. The graphic of it, I so write to remind me that nothing is free or forever and ne’er to neglect and fully appreciate every morsel of every moment!

  1. Beautiful, wise, sobering poem, Jean-Jacques. Reminds me a bit of the life-goes-quickly sentiment in “The Garden” song by the Canadian band Rush:

    • It is indeed sobering, especially as a reminder that time really does move at high speed. Thus so periodically, especially reaching the stage of looking at an oldish picture, which happens to be yourself, and you can’t put a name to it. Kidding aside, I do recall as a youngster, anxious to be older for the freedom maturity was supposedly affording us. I’m way past that level except that freedom doesn’t exist, as we will always have to answer to one’s conscience, to our deserving partners and our too often fogetfulness, in not recognizing adequately our responsibility to our fellow beings, etc.
      Thank you for your most appreciated comment in describing your reaction to my pictured reflection on life and its meagre duration.
      As well, heartfelt thanks for your thoughtful inclusion of that Rush video, a totally enjoyable surprise!

      • I remember very clearly saying to my parents when I was a child, “I can’t wait until I’m a grown-up when I can do whatever I want,” and of course getting the “being a grown-up is the exact opposite of doing what you want” lecture in return. I didn’t believe them.

      • Thank you Liz, that is what I was implying, in a not too roundabout way, in response to Dave’s comment. The idea of so-called freedom, is not a simple matter, and never without condition or consequence. Save I suppose if one is a robot or inhuman, and then some!



      • Unfortunately in that regard, growing up has us enter reality and having to face the real world, where our human so-called rather short life, as my poem suggests, really is but a moment. Comparatively speaking as time becomes aging, as opposed childhood years becoming months which become days that turn into minutes, and alas seconds to nothing. All this taken with a grain of salt, so to speak, because like the song goes, “That’s Life” and that’s all we’ve got and happy l am to still be around to say so🧐😜👍! Happy days to you too, Liz!


      • Yes, Jean-Jacques and Liz, becoming an adult means more freedom in a way yet less freedom in a way. And adulthood does indeed arrive fast — and then flies by quickly. Looking at old photos can be both enjoyable and jolting as they remind us of the passage of time.

  2. I’m happy that my embarking on the e-book bandwagon, by the way inspired by Paulette no less, has contributed to your enjoyment. And when is this excursion in the poetry treasure house to take place, wearing a mask one presumes, and where does this take place?

    • Thank you Liz, sometimes when the elements are favourable and the gods are awake, that is all one needs to get it right. I suppose this was one of those days in a world that ne’er lets one forget, that life really is but a minute!

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