Feed my sheep. Green pastures of plenty.
- It's time to start writing again.
Time to finish that photo book.
Time to call some old friends whose voices I haven't heard in too long.
Time to go to another bluegrass festival, stay up too late, sleep too little, do it all over again, live that joy.
Time to laze around a campfire the night after the festival has ended and enjoy those sleep-deprived, nostalgic conversations that always take place when the time is right and we're clinging to the longing to remain in the cocoon of kindred spirits on a summer night huddled around a fire, coming together, opening up, for just a blink in the span of a lifetime. It's magical.
Time to settle old differences and rather find that common ground. It's there.
It's time to be grateful for what has come my way in this life (lots of good things).
Time to give more - and freely.
Time to be more physical (as the ages roll that good food catches up with you if you don't exercise more).
In the immortal words of Tim O'Brien, it's time to learn. Always time to learn.
Time to do more and talk less (my friends will be glad of that one
I could go on about time for hours...but it's time to move on.