When the time is right it will happen. Wait till the time is right. Is that the right time?
Timing is everything. Never enough time to make enough time. Time’s up. Pencils down.
And we’re out of time. Even the mighty, mighty Zep cautions reminds “your time is gonna come.”
First time for every thing, and likely a second time. Of course, if it happens twice, it will happen a third time as well. Time stretches into eternity and passes in the wink of an eye, timely and timeless elasticity, where times stops in times of grief then flies during moments of bliss.
Seconds and minutes and hours building days, weeks, months, knowing full well “to every thing turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn , turn, and a time for every purpose under heaven,” bookending the short time we have into tidy, neatly contained years, crowding the bookshelves of decades that mark the times of our lives.
If I had time, I’d tell you about why I’m here. Time ticking in my head tells me there’s time for that later.
Until next time.