= released =

A box rests lazily in the jagged corner of the room. Its once sharp and clearly defined edges have been rounded with the militant marching metre of life. Its once bright and glossy veneer has dulled and faded from the passage and pressing of so many unnamed hands. Alone, dull, worn. Our box is betrayed by the dust mote filled light seeping through the not so tightly shut shutters of the none too clean window. Shamed, downcast, lifeless. An unsuccessful attempt to keep a once brilliantly blinding moment in the shadow stained corner of the psyche. Baggage, the past, dragged along. Hidden deep by a futile attempt to sweep the shattered shards of the long ago under a rug of happiness. Clinging, desperate for solidity, wrong place. The cleansing of this place cannot be accomplished from within. In need, helpless, encouraged. The brilliance of the ethereal enters and our box exists no more. What time is there for a dingy, dirty, despicable past when the blameless and perfect beckons us forth? As far as the east from the west. Nothingness to infinity. How does time matter in eternal? The clock confuses and twists us into knots of inability. Choking, paralyzing, immovable. The passage of time does not bind its inventor. Time warps and shapes the physical. A gentle and subtle reminder of where the focus must be. Not here but there. In a whereabouts time does not know. Freed from the trudging pace of the seemingly ceaseless second. Freed from the baggage that makes us think we know who we are. Freed from chains of perception. The locks of category, label, vocation. In a place where true means without a blindfold. Where eyes have no use because that three dimensional tool has been superseded. An unbiased, untainted, God-centered view of existence. Then one sees truth in all His glory. Revealed, relished, radiant. No need for a box full of meaningless time-honored memory. What truly matters is behind, next to, and yet ahead as His gravity perpetuates all. Moving and non-moving as time revolves, twists, straightens, and is used as another tool of His devising. Respected as His creation, not because it was created, but because He created it. Because time reflects Him while are aware of its movement. And only for that reason.