Day 89: What is Rare?

In the last one week, I have moved around from places to places, every day and every night. I have slept at times or moments which I could find and stolen others to remain awake. It is in these rare moments that I have come to realize our strange affliction towards declaring something as rare. We are often surrounded and often obsessed by the idea of finding something rare or unique in our lives. So much so that we are excited about the opportunities that come along that we can declare as such, and as I sit in my hotel room contemplating about such a rare moments among others I feel we may cheat a little bit from time itself and upon how we find them. Hence my writing today focuses on what exactly is this version of rare

What is Rare?
What is rare are not the people, the time or place,
It is not even the moments that we can't erase
What is rare isn't hidden in the fog refusing to come out,
It isn't loud or angry or hurt, no matter what the reason you shout

What is rare aren't the books that are covered in dates,
Neither versions that needed revisions with no changes made.
Neither words that are locked in poetry or free outside in your head,
Not even in the thoughts that you think of when you put yourself to bed

What is rare isn't about people's fights or peaceful talks,
It isn't about the breaks in between our long walks,
What is rare by itself is the rarest thing to find,
When it keeps moving along with you and you look for it in things left behind