There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God.
mumbling to myself aloud, in public. at times it is embarrassing, but it is as it is.
I know you're expecting art!
It is here, but interwoven / embedded with cyber residue of life.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
somethings just make sense when i read them,
seeming as a natural rhythm
Ecclesiastes 3
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1 comment:
i find the transitions between the binary, the space were most of life occurs, to be so uncertain, when either or is incorrect but it is both and neither
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