Listening, Looking and Seeing.
Like an old clock, ticking, ticking, ticking wilfully
and faltering not in determination. Can’t stop, won’t
stop, can’t stop, won’t stop. Ticking never to forget
the edge of time. Ticking a trapping remembrance,
the past. Presenting the present and sounding the future.
Ticking tirelessly, continually, effortlessly and in all
manner ticking. Ticking, passing thru sleep as the silent
night sweeps to awake the dream. Ticking to sculpt
the spirit. Time. Hearing time saturates all desires,
to rush, to fall, to repent, to love, to forgive, to tend and
shape a vision, to listen and prepare to walk that gentle
walk so timelessly with All. Looking up to see the face
that looks down without judgement. A time to see.
In such a sight, the past is held within the ticking face
and to see the present is time to trust the future. Hands
that hold All time. Looking up, looking down, looking all
around, ah, a time for All to be seen.
redned121 