Why, among the rush of life, does nothing seem to be moving?
Is time but a grinning maniac furiously turning a crank? Do the tolling of the bells signify a step, an accomplishment… progress. Or are they but grim markers on the march through life, signifying nothing but the eve of another day survived.
Does anyone see the pace at which we travel, passing by those moments that could really matter.
Losing opportunities, making regrets.. living to wish for more.
The surrender to the inevitability.. the continuance.. the present season. The utter defeat.
Initiative swallowed up by an instant. Then the next one.. and the following. The string of eventualities leading to occasions leading to events leading to happenings..
Where do we lose the meaning?
Life.. with its fickle and contradictory nature.. drains the fervor.
Time.. raining down..
Opportunities.. arising.. taken or passed..
Much turmoil about triviality.
Life.. the ephemeral montage of flashing lights and sounds..
Life must be centered..
Purpose.. to take opportunities…
To remember..
To value..
To live..
Maranatha
