nothing gold can stay

I was remembering a poem I read once, from a book; setting in the 60s America,

nature's first green is gold.
her hardest hue to hold.
her early leaf's a flower;
but only so an hour.
then leaf subsides to leaf.
so Eden sank to grief,
so dawn goes down to day.
nothing gold can stay.

-Robert Frost

I simply, adore it! Has been the one thought, which Ive been trying to reach out but hard-pressed to express out. Woven with such, rustic intricacies. Classic, ancient, revealing sacred wonders. The witty works of Mother Nature, cracked open by a crevice. The meaning yet, stupefies me.

Staying gold, like the greeness of dawn, the breaking of the new day, is one inconceivable spectacular moment. Which most of us, would be more pleased to be still under the covers of divine dreams. But as day breaks, and mundane lives start to pick up again, thats when true magic stops.

Nature, has its way of prizing special moments and breaking the spell abruptly. Leaving few to enjoy. But those few who did, are in turn those special ones, who values life as a much precious moment..to be grasp of.

Not saying you need to arise before sun lits, but--the instance you fall into the mono-syllabic hum-drums of life and not noticed anymore, of all things, small and beautiful; you might just loose the chance of discovering the essence you'd been searching for. Just thoughts expressed. Stay gold, dear reader.