This afternoon feels as if it sits outside the flow of time, needing to be filled with solitude and small quiet thoughts rather than flurries of words. So I offer up one of the most achingly beautiful poems I’ve read recently, instead of any words of my own:
Hymn to Time
Time says “Let there be”
every moment and instantly
there is space and the radience
of each bright galaxy.
And eyes beholding radiance.
And the gnats’ flickering dance.
And the seas’ expanse.
And death, and chance.
Time makes room
for going and coming home
and in time’s womb
begins all ending.
Time is being and being
time, it is all one thing,
the shining, the seeing,
the dark abounding.
– from Late in the Day; Poems 2010 – 2014 by Ursula Le Guin
