Too bright to write
No sound they make escaping
Life's untimely takes
Of beauty quiet
The pen mistakes
That silence left
To trace their wake.

One is blessed in life by moments like these, those unexpected yet unforgettable flashes of beauty and insight that subsequently inspire a lifetime's worth of recollection and contemplation. Their presence exists beyond explanation; deeply personal, their influence exists beyond language. Words render not a one of them justice, although (being aware and careful) sensitive others can identify with the experience.

Such moments can't be readily captured, we're lucky they can even be described in terms more than a few can appreciate. Wordsmiths and artists, expected to be eclectic, can at least bring their formidable powers of expression to bear, even though in the end they may starve for want of a muse like any one else. Does evolution anticipate this, expected from some reproductive advantage granted one with the vision but not the other without? It certainly allows that on the side of survival some really nasty stuff happens, usually related to the raw, savage mechanics of life. We all feed on death, even vegetarians, as Spock himself points out.

And if not so anticipated, then what effects this affect? Science takes a dim view of anything lurking outside the pressure of natural selection. Could random firing of neurons caught in universal pattern recognition machines (warm and wet, weighing about three pounds, with a humanoid life support system wrapped around each one) produce not only the marvelous, but also the marvel? Like sleep, awe seems one of those temporarily paralyzing states that leaves the wonder-er exposed to the sharp tooth and claw of another being not quite so bewildered.

I have long since placed my faith in the unsurpassed accomplishment of my species, that of moving even a tiny living biosphere outside the gravitational influence of this world. No matter that bubble was so tiny it only contained two large individuals of one species and uncounted representatives of microbiological associates. That accomplishment no doubt resulted from uncounted, unwritten, heartfelt moments of heavenly contemplation over the generations.

Can there be any greater self-injury, any greater sin, than ingratitude before such value? Be thankful not only for blessings but also for the precious ability to recognize them. If you're not encountering these untimely takes one after another on a pleasant basis, perhaps you're not doing life right. You may not be on the best track, and could use a better one. Do it, while you still can.