For years, decades, centuries it kept its pace
Ceaseless seasons cycling ‘neath its gaze
Lives created, born, growing, ending
All love, happiness, remorse and woe
Playing out under its rigid mechanism
Fluttering in time, ticking in neutral
Frustration, eagerness, ennui, hope
No rush, nor pause, nor change-of-pace
Just there, looking down
ticking, ticking, ticking
So constant in its presence
that we went about our day
neither heeding nor hearing
it’s rhythmic, pulsing drum-beat
We scurried ant-like about our daily
sometimes too late, sometimes too early
Unaware that we judged our reliability
against its unnoticed metronome
Until one day we fell over, tripped in our haste
Suddenly shocked from our routine and pacing
An unrequested chance to listen
even though we knew not quite what
we were listening for
We heard only silence, ringing out in the air
Silence over the mountains, valleys, rivers
Silence crowding into our panic
Pressing down on our fragile composure
We sat in the market square suddenly unmoored
and mourning its loss, though we hadn’t
thought of it for years
Had we assumed it watched over us?
Kept time for us all?
Had we slept while it counted the hours to waking?
And if it counted no more
Could we possibly be awake?
Or might we never sleep again?
It’s silence rang across the valley
making a lie of time itself
From the prompt “The clock stopped, but the world kept moving”
Leave me a prompt and I’ll write you a little something 🙂
