Time, for prayer

On many an idle day I have grieved over lost time, but it is never lost, O God. You have taken every moment of my life in Your own hands.

Hidden in the heart of things, Your are nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.

I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning, I awoke and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.

--Rabindranath Tagore, “The Heart of God; Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore Selected and edited by Herbert F. Vetter”

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