I wonder if time is measured differently during moments of beauty.
If it spins out, webbing itself against the dimensions.
Does it hold, grab, freeze, otherwise reverse what we know as time?
Does it still the giant within us, in this day and age, that lunges toward negativity?
I do know moments of beauty are crystal clear and indescribable to the greatest extent. They hover, almost outside of our vision even when within, pulling at the reaches of our heart.