originally Posted on September 8, 2010

There is a powerful force in our universe. Everything marches to its silent influence.

All conduct, all circumstances, all experiences feels its impact.

It heals and restores, it dims and enhances; finally it is both vivid and lost in shadows.

In a single moment, its power will freeze frame tragedy, polarize poignancy, leaving breathless astonishment in its wake.

There is a sameness and change simultaneously in its existence.

It is an infant, vibrant youth, mellow middle age or the wise aged, depending on the observer.

This powerful force flows as a river through life.

It eddies in the bend of this river, depositing the flotsam of experiences in its backwaters.

It flings itself over precipice experiences with wild urgency.

Rushing toward a series of distant experiences with expectant fulfillment – its gift is disturbingly unlike the expectation and it leaves behind less than satisfying memories.

It can be a violent discordant note or a rapturous harmony.

It can be a symphony of sound soothing the senses, or be as disturbing as the crashing harassing sound of cymbals.

This force appears as a grotesque caricature of life or the emaciated starved remains in the cave of neglect.

Yet, sometimes it moves with grace and fluidity, intently absorbing the activity.

It has a beginning and an end.

It is celebrated and mourned, worshipped and ridiculed.

It is invested and squandered, clutched at and waved away.

It has its own rhythm, moves in and out of its own season, gently, harshly changing impressions and perceptions.

Its unrelenting pressure grinds interminably, chipping away at enthusiasm and exuberance.

Its shrieking silence is a cacophony in the marketplace of existence.

It defines certain dimensions, but still needs its own definition.

It limits life and is itself unlimited.

It will in its measured swiftness keep its own appointment.

—When its creator says—

“TIME SHALL BE NO MORE!”