Echoes Through Time
A day is a discrete unit - if you get my drift - But how do you bind it to a process That flows through seasons, across lifetimes? How do you compress a concept into a celebration, Fixed in time, yet obedient to the natural order, Shaped by history's weight and the pull of global citizenry? Forces of moderation and healing Converse with their counterparts - Strategy, tactics, semantics, semiotics. And if these words seem dense, take comfort - They are often shrouded in mystery, even for those who wield them. In the grand theatre of the world, the show must go on. Texts, like universes of symbols, Veil our ascent through the echoes of time. But not all immersions are a cool bath - Some are bubbles of engineered escape, Fire sales of distraction where everything must go. Yet, you are more than your senses and reactions. Your reflections exceed your reflexes; The core awakens beneath the surface tensions. In that spirit, I wish you all a Sunday Full of things...