Tag Archive: time

Advent word: Time

I overslept this morning and felt ‘out’ all day. Out of step. Out of time. Outside of time. Hurry up and slow down There’s time yet. #time #wā #adventwords2019


tree with nest

Winter exposure…
The secret now in sunlight,
Some measure of growth
And the seasons moving
Inexorably forward.
Vacate that home too small for you
And fly.


Talitha Fraser


An outsider would not have noticed any visible changes. The same skies, the same seas. The same faces… But they know that everything was different. Their banal everyday life which they knew with such familiarity had been transfigured,  They had been given new eyes and the solid objects and stone faces which filled their space became transparent. It was as if they saw invisible things which were visible only to those who had seen the angel troubling the waters of the pool – the dead man.

Normal mirrors reflect things which are present; but dreams show things which are absent… their stories about the dead man were stories about themselves. Stories not about what they were (that is what they saw when they looked in their mirrors…) but stories about what they desired to be: this is what they saw as they faced their dreams…

Inside our flesh, and mixed with the noises of Death, there is written an indelible story of beauty.  And even without knowing we know that we are destined to this happiness: the Prince must meet Sleeping Beauty.

The villagers remembered. Their stories were the return of a lost time: the past, desired, repressed, forgotten, dead, resurrected from the grave.

…How could I explain to her that the story was always happening in the present just because it had never happened in the past, in the far distant land?

…the beautiful wants to return… its time is sacred; it is reborn every morning; it is the time of resurrection.

…Once upon a time, in a far distant land…” : a cloud of mist covers the narrative to conceal its real time and space which are ‘now’ and ‘here’… the ‘once upon a time, in a far distant land’ is a metaphorical was of speaking about a present loss.

p.39-41, The Poet, the Warrior, the Prophet

I wish, sometimes



I wish, sometimes

those things, done – undone

those things, never attempted – tried

those things, dreamed – realised

I aspire to wholeness

in myself and all things

and I fail

I fail

I’m reminded of how little power

I have, how little control, how

little comprehension, how

little I am.

You are big.

You are big enough to hold me,

the done the dreamed and the


I will never know wholeness

in myself

but I can know wholeness in You

and I am grateful for that.

I am grateful for You.


Talitha Fraser

010Some things… you try and catch a photo of, and you can’t.

You fiddle with the settings, try different angles, to flash or not to flash… and eventually you realise that the moment you are trying to capture, the feelings/sensations you want to remember cannot be caught by a digital imitation.

There is a sacred quiet here in the graveyard.

Birds calling to one another, the rhythmic hum of motorway traffic and constructive sounds of industry form a backdrop to the peace in this place.

The headstones tilt at varying angles nestled in between trees and ferns, some messy and cracked, some maintained and others washed smoothly illegible by the rains of time.

I am somehow nestled in too here in the grass at the edge. I understand my place in the order of things and perhaps glimpse the rest that will one day be mine.

There is no striving in this place.
Striving is meaningless.
Here, for a moment, I am content to be.

Little black robins dart among the meadow daisies sun-blushed pink tips.