There is always, always, time for the sweet breath of life to blow across the soul.
It is the other things that there may not be time for
And if they fall away
No one will notice
They will not be missed
This quietness, this time of pausing, this is what the world is hinged upon.
It is what must be
so that all that is unnecessary will fall away
For it is that other that weighs down, that would prevent the taking of flight
There is always time, time for the sweet breath of life to blow across the soul.

