The Clock Poems
Chapter 1 (God Still Rhymes)
The Clock Poems
With the exception of the first poem in this chapter, these poems were inspired by a wall clock in the room where my wife and I attended a seven week series called Christ Life. The sessions consisted of a video viewed by the whole group, then we broke up into small groups. At the end of each session, we returned to the larger meeting room for a song and prayer. One meeting while waiting for everyone to return from their small groups, something that I had noticed about the clock before, now inspired me to write the following poems. Give me the time and this is what can happen.
Discussion: Explain significance of the room the clock was in
Grandfather Clock
Old Grandfather clock
tick tock
pendulum swinging
those hands purposely
circling
the hours
of time
that face has seen
so much
and there’s no such
time as now
for no matter
how we try
we can’t close
time’s eye
and grandfather clock
keeps sounding on
tick tock
tick tock (1971)
The Broken Clock?
Time stands still
as our hands circle time,
day in, night out.
And without doubt,
if we were to stand still,
time would move forward,
life would not stand still,
no matter our will.
For it is in God our hours
are measured
by his hands on the clock.
Time is his
to stand still
or move forward
at his will.
(The broken clock, I think not.)
Still the Clock Is Still
The clock is still there,
Hands idle, never moving.
So, I take a breath of air
To know that my heart is still moving.
9:30 (AM or PM?),
Though it was just after lunch,
And with that I had a hunch
That I was in a time crunch;
Too late for brunch,
Too early for a snack to munch.
So I sat still,
My hands not moving,
Idly wondering
What was God’s will?
Our Time Standing Still
The clock makes not a sound,
Its hands never turning round
Its numbered face.
There will be no race,
Not today.
That is not
To say
That someday
We will see
That maybe
Time is no stranger
As we face danger
Of our living
And not giving
Our time,
Our dime
To help feed
Those in need.
Time standing still,
Just waiting until
We make the time
To share his grace,
To plant a seed
So someone will see
Life in the manger.
The Clock, the Time, Our Hours
Time, is it ours or is it hours,
The hands that do not move?
As we move through time
Do we make life rhymes?
Whose face is on the clock?
Does it reflect
the number of years,
the number of fears,
the number of tears?
The rhymes that age us
As we look in the mirror,
Is it ours or the face of time?
Will the hands on the clock
Give us time to unlock
The secrets we keep,
Our sins so deep?
Do we have the hours,
At least to start,
To open our heart
And release what was ours?
Time will wait for no one.
Will we be standing still
At the end of time?
Time will not go on into infinity
As we wait for...
