I’d thought within myself, its there.
When all the time was everywhere.
The twelve, the three, the six and nine.
The grand illusion, clock and chime.
I wound it up and watched again.
To find the circle with no end.
A value I so tried to place.
Upon a marked by hourly face.
The rhythm speaking showing when.
Where some agenda plays its role.
I'd thought within myself again.
To see the meaning where it goes.
And when upon the time arrived.
I found my rest and ceased to strive.
And then I saw the answer clear.
The chime so pleasant to my ear.
Upon the gears I’d not relied.
Nor the motion on it’s face.
But in the answer which was clear.
Ever present, ever near.
The key of blessing for the clock.
That never winds, and never stops.
