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Time on this Thanksgiving



Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
Stephenie Meyer

Perhaps that is a strange way to start an entry on Thanksgiving morning, but it is on my heart and is from the novel "New Moon".

Time is a vacillating and nebulous entity. I have weathered my aching seconds, ticking one by one...

But not today. Today I give thanks to be alive, to love, and to be loved in return.

I wish everyone the enchanting rapture I feel in my spirit walk.

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night.
Edgar Allan Poe

And I am awash in my daily dreams.... my capacity and yours is measureless.

Dustin

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