You say, there is time for everything.
I have no time for anything. I am hurled by my agenda, goal and success so that in this gliding I swift by everything and anything. I am pulled by the gleam of accomplishment. He rushes ahead and I follow him wherever he tears me by his invisible string. I am blinded by his allure and earless from its loud praise. No, I have no time for anything. Can’t you see, I am busy with my accomplishment. I have no scent for apple tree blossoms nor stomach for its fruit. I have an ambition and he has me.
Unlace. Let the ambition go. Inhale, look around and start to taste.
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.”
Painted apple tree blossom and fruit. For those who have time for everything.
