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“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.”  Mother Theresa

1/17/2016

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And an astronomer said, "Master, what of Time?" 

And he answered: 

You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable. 

You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons. 

Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing. 

Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness, 

And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream. 

And that which sings and contemplates in you, is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space. 

Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless? 

And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the center of his being, and moving not form love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds? 

And is not time even as love is, undivided and pace less? 

But if in you thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons, 

And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing. 

Time Xxi
Khalil Gibran


As I read this poem, I am reminded of a wondrous dream I had at age 10.
This was before New age theories, or my knowledge of the collective memories of Aboriginal peoples, who believe we came from the stars.
 I was flying through the universe at top speed. I was Mercury, and my brother and sisters were Jupiter, and other colorful planets. We were flying together in some sort of unison, communicating with the stars and flying through time and space.
Woosh! I was brought back to reality, and the whole dream had lasted less than the twenty minutes it took to perform the dental work I was having.
 Call it an hallucination, or a dream, it didn’t matter. My life was changed. No longer did I look at the stars in the same way, and no longer did I think of time as finite. 
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“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.” 
― Mother Teresa---
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“It's being here now that's important. There's no past and there's no future. Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is the now. We can gain experience from the past, but we can't relive it; and we can hope for the future, but we don't know if there is one.” 
― George Harrison
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​In his sonnet concerning Time, William Shakespeare addresses Time as a person, and asks “him” to be kind to his lover, for Time to do “his worst” to everything, but allow his love to remain young in his poetry…..

SONNET 19
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood; 
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st, 
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, 
To the wide world and all her fading sweets; 
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime: 
O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen; 
Him in thy course untainted do allow 
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men. 
Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young. 

William Shakespeare
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To quote Albert Einstein, “Time is an illusion”, and Lao Tzu said,
“Time is a created thing. To say 'I don't have time,' is like saying, 'I don't want to.” 
 
It is true, that I for one am notorious for saying that I don’t have time. Part of that is because my work schedule is so all-consuming that I feel robbed of my personal time, and energy. However, I have to make time for the things I really want to do. Writing poetry requires a creative flow of energy that I lack when I am drained and tired. Finding rejuvenating pursuits is the only way to refill the creative fountain; going for long walks, loving on pets, listening to great music, attending a concert can help to top up that creative battery, helping to revive the spirit, and rejuvenate the soul.

 Last night, John and I went to the Meyerson Symphony hall to hear one of my most favorite pieces of music performed by the Dallas Symphony; Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, by Vaughan Williams.   
The vocal polyphonic theme was originally written in the 1500’s by Thomas Tallis, who was musician to Henry VIII and later to Elizabeth I. The theme was adapted for strings and rearranged by Vaughan Williams in 1910, and has become a much loved orchestral masterpiece. The music portrays an intimate and ethereal sound that climaxes in trembling reverence in waves of atmospheric, acoustical reverb. To listen is to become enveloped in a glimmering, magical space, where stringed instruments sing of   somewhere in the distant past and future, culminating in a sacred space.

It was magical, and I wept.

I googled it this morning, and include a link to a #YouTube Video of a performance by the BBC Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Andrew Davis at Gloucester Cathedral . It is probably the most beautiful performance of this piece I have ever heard or seen, and I encourage you to take 15 minutes out of your day to meditate on this wonderful performance. It will stop TIME in its tracks.

https://youtu.be/ihx5LCF1yJY

This is such a fine example of how art/music/writing/stories can live on forever, not just in their original form, but how they can evolve with each generation, nourishing souls and feeding the human condition for time immemorial.  It also brings to mind how tragic is the loss of all Art and archaeological remains in Syria and terrorist-torn countries.
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TIME
J.R.R.  Tolkein
“I sit beside the fire and think 
Of all that I have seen
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair

I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring 
That I shall ever see

For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green

I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago
And people that will see a world
That I shall never know

But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet 
And voices at the door” 



In his poem Time, JR Tolkein  (Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit), talks of how he thinks of people in the past, and of people  in the future , who will see a world that we shall never see; a world so different in time, freezing his own existence into a blink of an eye.
 Tempus Fugit is a Latin phrase, essentially meaning Time flies. It comes from an expression in a series of books called Virgil’s Georgics, where it appears as ‘Fugit inreparabile tempus”, meaning “It escapes, irretrievable time. “
​
We cannot get time back; we cannot retrieve it. Neither should we waste time trying to change what has happened……

“Don't spend time beating on a wall, hoping to transform it into a door.” 
Coco Chanel

It is also true that despite the saying “Time is the great healer”, we do not forget. Somehow, painful memories get less acute as time goes by, but they are still painful. They just become encapsulated and perhaps a little more insulated than before. But the wounds can open with little triggers and catalysts.

“It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” 
Rose Kennedy

“No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.” 
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the shore.


Lastly, I am going to quote an age old verse, rewritten in the sixties as a song, a favorite poem at funerals, and also a lesson to live by every day.
 To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; 
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; 
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; 
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; 
A time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; 
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; 
A time of war, and a time of peace.

From Ecclesiastes (King James Bible version)
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There is a time for everything. We should choose our time carefully, keeping a universal balance, in order to survive as an individual and as a species.

“You never know beforehand what people are capable of, you have to wait, give it time, it's time that rules, time is our gambling partner on the other side of the table and it holds all the cards of the deck in its hand, we have to guess the winning cards of life, our lives.” 
Jose Saramago, Blindness

 And with that note, I will finish, so that I have time to enjoy the rest of this Sunday, and my family.
Have a great week, and may you spend your time wisely. 



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All artwork/photography by Womensvoice1 with a little help from #Aliensky app
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    Susan Golden

    Born, raised and educated in Cornwall, England., Sue moved to America in 1981.
    After many years of life experience, her first bookof poetry for social change, is published. Available on iBooks.
     https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-moon-of-compassion/id892598396?mt=11

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