We have all had such moments...

... watching the second hand tick second by second.

We can never regain such seconds.

Where all the riches of this world...

Where all the possible achievements from this life...

Where the fruition of all dreams and aspirations...

... are far too short to redeem even one second that now dangerously reside in what one can only call the past.

We live in only one reality...

... the present.

However, I propose...

We exist in memories of the past...

And hopes for the future.

You cannot undo the past.

You can only redo the future.

Pablo Neruda

Sonnet XVII

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.