Is it time to pray again?
Is it time to march again?
Is it once again time to grieve, time to rage, time to resist?
Is it ever not?
So long as we have breath, it is time.
Not because there is a cause.
Not because there is a moment.
Not because it’s never been like this, or it’s worse now, or it’s a critical tipping point.
Because we are part of all life.
Because we have this breath.
The big hand always points to kinship.
The little hand to humility, love, wonder.
Take away the hands and the face of the clock will still tell the time: mercy.
The sin is losing track of time.
The sin is forgetting we breathe.