time

We say we waste time, but that is impossible. We waste ourselves.

Now the Earth's face is lathered
white with shaving soap
It's a long time till
the razor once more makes its face
smooth and fresh and green.

Eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period.

Cerridwyn is one of the most magical of Welsh goddesses.  She is the quintessential stereotypical "hag witch" -- hunchbacked, cackling, stirring her cauldron full of magic potion.  Yet this image is but one side of the great goddess Cerridwyn.

Cerridwyn is also a mother, to a dark boy named Morfran and a beautiful girl named Creidwy, and a wife to the giant Tegid Foel.  Her family means a great deal to her, and her magic stems from her need to help them.  She seeks to protect her family, to remove obstacles on their paths.  Like all good parents, she wishes the very best for her children and strives to provide for them.  No young, virginal maid, Cerridwyn has the resources, self-confidence, and inner power and wisdom to forge ahead and aid her family members.

Ancient poets and sages have called the earth the mother of all things. They could hardly have chosen a more attractive name, or one that was more appropriate. From her lap springs everything that possesses life and motion, everything that flourishes, fades, and has its fated day, and she tirelessly provides material for the countless varied bodies that are created --- and then abandoned --- by the life force in its unending, hidden progress through nature. And meanwhile the earth itself is running its race around the sun with incredible speed, obedient to fixed, immutable laws. Human intelligence has succeeded in understanding these laws, and it is now possible to determine earth's position in time and space, relative to the sun and other heavenly bodies, at any point in the future, just so long as the present frame of our solar system is not disturbed by any unusual, large-scale events.

There is a Zone whose even Years
No Solstice interrupt -
Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon
Whose perfect Seasons wait -

Whose Summer set in Summer, till
The Centuries of June
And Centuries of August cease
And Consciousness - is Noon.

    I know none of Time's cardinal pillar on which it says forever just because eternity is not Time anymore.

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.

I am a Thing-Finder, and when you're a Thing-Finder, you don't have a minute to spare.

Not too long ago thousands spent their lives as recluses to find spiritual vision in the solitude of nature.  Modern man need not become a hermit to achieve this goal, for it is neither ecstasy nor world-estranged mysticism his era demands, but a balance between quantitative and qualitative reality.  Modern man, with his reduced capacity for intuitive perception, is unlikely to benefit from the contemplative life of a hermit in the wilderness.  But what he can do is to give undivided attention, at times, to a natural phenomenon, observing it in detail, and recalling all the scientific facts about it he may remember.  Gradually, however, he must silence his thoughts and, for moments at least, forget all his personal cares and desires, until nothing remains in his soul but awe for the miracle before him.  Such efforts are like journeys beyond the boundaries of narrow self-love and, although the process of intuitive awakening is laborious and slow, its rewards are noticeable from the very first.  If pursued through the course of years, something will begin to stir in the human soul, a sense of kinship with the forces of life consciousness which rule the world of plants and animals, and with the powers which determine the laws of matter.  While analytical intellect may well be called the most precious fruit of the Modern Age, it must not be allowed to rule supreme in matters of cognition.  If science is to bring happiness and real progress to the world, it needs the warmth of man's heart just as much as the cold inquisitiveness of his brain.