Today, I see eternity in the eyes of a newborn child or the rugged mountains that lift their spires to the translucent heavens. I sense eternity – when I rest beside grand oceans and watch undulating waves roll into infinity, or hold the tiny hand of child, or walk with an aged saint. Eternity doesn’t wait for me – Eternity is now, in the yellow of the first daffodil of spring, Daffodil in the pastel rays of dawn that wake the birds’ song, in the freshness of air that fills