The silent ticking of the clock
The silent ticking of the clock at night
The solace of the ailing and dying
To the bone-weary, rest it may invite
Comfort to those who lay awake crying
Melodically it measures out our sleep
And harmonizes with our very breath
Into the world of dreaming now we sweep
Rehearsal for our future dance with death
But with the dawn, light breaks night’s ancient spell
Illuminating what the shadows leave
Invigorating every living cell
And with our dreams new images we weave
But our poor clock knows nothing of this grace
It simply moves its hands over its face.
Tina Busch-Nema
February 13, 2009
The solace of the ailing and dying
To the bone-weary, rest it may invite
Comfort to those who lay awake crying
Melodically it measures out our sleep
And harmonizes with our very breath
Into the world of dreaming now we sweep
Rehearsal for our future dance with death
But with the dawn, light breaks night’s ancient spell
Illuminating what the shadows leave
Invigorating every living cell
And with our dreams new images we weave
But our poor clock knows nothing of this grace
It simply moves its hands over its face.
Tina Busch-Nema
February 13, 2009
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