Sometimes it seems unending. Childhood summer days on the beach of memory, stretching out like cirrus in the sky. Sometimes it feels stuck. Awaiting the dentist chair, reflecting the pot refusing to boil. Other times if feels fixed. Window painted shut type fixed, not budging till damage is done. Then there is its rushing. Blink and miss it, not even knowing was missed, just all has changed. At least it feels that way. Don’t forget the dripping tap, marking unwanted passing, gnawing into the soul to stop but, where is the strength. Casting shadows changing through the day. Grains of sand slipping through the camel's eye. Tick and chime, resounding ring, silent flashing. Marking time, as if we are in control of it while prostrated to its whim. Minutes seconds, days week, time immemorial, time infinite. We observe the years, as if in marking reason returns, yet the season lies forlorn unknown even through the living.
This weeks doodle is purposefully a bit messy. Taking the colours from the equality flag I stencilled repeatedly a clock onto a sheet of paper. God treats us all equally, however the world does not reflect that, despite the continual cries down through the centuries. Still there are countless divisions in our society and world, wealth, opportunity even health care are a lottery depending on just who you are. The time is running out in all sorts of ways. Can we interpret the time is the question Jesus asks, however I think there lies beneath another bigger question. If we can, what are we going to do about it?
Still Striving For that Elusive Halo 