Nicole Page-Smith
The angel of time
Time takes us further past ourselves to the finite, to all the numbers just before infinity. Time like the clock face goes through finite numbers to the end of twelve hours and over again, breathing time. We are not measured by fate only time. The threads of fate enmesh with your being as though tangled in your hair and spinning on the axis with the planets and a day or night, we feel no end, timeless in the knowing of God. Angels sing to us about the heavens but time is you guiding star like a guiding light in the very darkness of not knowing the way. Angels, hover above you in anticipation of an event but the event is time not measured with the rod. God is time with her scissor hands.
Fate is on your side with time for God cuts the thread and measured is time. Day turns to night and night turns to day but as the hours pass, you mature or age but there is no concept of time. Time could be a state of mind or measured by the rod of time but live life to the full. Minutes, ticking and seconds, getting louder, the big hands on the clock are taking you towards an inevitable end, the finite understanding of time. When the big scissor hands strike on your last hour, what will you be thinking? The angels can only alarm you, sometimes, of any danger ahead but trust your guardian angel. Time is on your side.
Time and the angels walk with you and as the hours, tick away, you ascend yourself, to the heavens. Time appears to go into the reversal with old age, the older you get, the younger you feel. So, although we are made of the same chemical compound of stars, the black hole of mortality has nothing to do with old fossils becoming rock more we travel towards the infinite and the non-time of the void of space. The heavens are infinite and we live forever with the angels. Heaven appears on Earth as well and the angels walk with you to guide your way. Time passes through you like the spirit ascending. We go to God with time but are descended by the angels only to ascend back to them. Ascending and descending we are time, the angel of time.
