The Tick Tock Game

clock by Karen Gonzalez

  Every time I ask for time,

                   High and dry time leaves me,

                     Yet when I’ve had enough of time,

  Tocks drone on unceasing.

                     “Oh fickle, flighty time, why can’t you ever please me?

                Like a cat and mouse chase,

                     Little spinning hands running circles in my mind,

…stiches, streams, ticks, and crunches,

                     No minute to rewind or even unwind!

                    Then suddenly left to whittle away dull hours,

                     Or count sheep till dawn, 

                 When will this silly Tick Tock game ever end?

 Perhaps I can reframe time,

                    By placing life itself,

Higher than the ticking clock upon my mantelpiece?

                   For life is the most masterful Timepiece…

                    Exquisite and sublime,

                  Of timeless beauty and grand design,

                     Moving with precision and grace in divine time,

                     Fashioned by God the Master Craftsman,

                     His signature carved inside.

                  While the Tick Tock game lacks clear rhyme or reason,

                     Life’s eternal Timepiece, set to love, is always right on time,

                     No matter the season, reason or rhyme.

by gilda patricia

 (Be at peace knowing the beautiful Timepiece whom is your Brother, Mother, Father, Sister, Cousin, Friend, Aunt, Uncle, lover, etc… goes on and on…with or without the Tick Tock game…forevermore.)                                                                                             

Father Time’s Fall (Revised)

(Felt a little guilty about Father Time’s death, in 1st version (see prior post). So in this 2nd version, Father Time does in fact live on, though retiring to the countryside).

 

In the aftermath of Father Time’s terrible fall,

Master clockmaker puts Father Time back together,

A shiny new pacemaker for his busted ticker.

 

But Father Time and Mother (Earth) Space,

Having both overreached their rule,

And overextended their limits…

 

Set out for quite retirement place in the country,

Modest abode with porch swing and a spectacular view,

Of purple mountains and fruited plains.

 

There, Father Time kept on ticking,

While Mother (Earth) Space kept far-reaching,

Minus over-ambitious reaping.

 

Transistor radio singing,

Amber waves of staticky tunes,

With lemonade in hand…

 

Other hand free to swat time flies.

Reminiscing of good ol’ days long past,

Before their time stood still.

 

Here, Now, time for Higher LOVE’s reign…

Flexible, bending, yielding, healing,

Compassionate, helpful hands…

 

Moving with forgiveness, patience, reverence,

Most gentle persuasion,

Face unfettered, unaffected, unbounded,

 

By  T  I  M  E    or    S     P     A      C      E…

 

The short or long of it,

Used up, unreachable, barren or broken places,

 Past, Present, Future now co-residing…

 

Having most precise timing,

For grace and healing free-flowing,

Never missing single beat.

 

And we, now here, 

Living Here and Now

In time and space, not of it. 

 

Loving Presence cracks code on,

Separation’s archaic rule.

Say’s Father Time, “Please do stop by and see me anytime!”

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Father Time’s Fall

Father Time sat on a wall,

Arms moving swiftly, steadily,

Around and around.

Tick tock, tick tock,

Laboring robotically without end.

 

But what if one day Father Time were to fall,

Landing in pieces on the floor,

Keeping time no more?

Big Ben probably the only one broken up,

Over Father Time’s untimely death.

 

Without time to divide night from day,

Past from future,

Youth from age,

There’d be more time, not less…

To savor the infinite richness of the Present.

 

What if time were a concept,

We didn’t have to buy into?

Would Father time still rule our lives?

Just a thought to ponder,

If you can find the time!

 

-Gilda Patricia