Space Between

From the moment of birth, time sweeps us along-- in spite of our protests-- on its unrelenting march to death.

And from our limited perspective, these days and years we're given are all-consuming... But in truth, they are a blink of an eye, when placed in the context of time.

If we could step outside time and observe what we do with the small space we are given between birth and death, would we then see the absurdity?

We divide ourselves-- in our hearts and homes, our communities, our nations, and our world-- as we fight for power and significance.

We kill and wage war.
We succumb to fear and hate.
We cultivate anger and pride.

We build our personal kingdoms while others-- whose hearts beat the same as ours-- suffer and die.

And we ignore that we are bound for the same.

It may come from within, our own body turning on itself. Blood, cells, and organs, failing to behave as they were designed.

It may come from nature itself, tearing down the kingdom we've built. Wind, water, fire, even a tiny insect.

It may come from another, as we're taken by the hands of our fellow man-- one whose time is as limited as our own-- through bullets, bombs, and brutality.

If we could step outside time, would we see how we claw and scratch our way to the top of this life, only to find there is no top-- only a hole dug deep in the dirt?