silent-tick//solitary-tock

“[…] Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

     Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence […]
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice”

-Ash Wednesday V,  T.S. Eliot

the tick tock,
tick tock,
tick tock
echoes through the ages,
mortality remembered at the sight of a clock.

in our inescapable hubris,
our avarice,
our egocentric minds,
we rush the clock,
rush the ticking and the tock.

we ask where the time has gone,
but we do not want the answer,
for we have asked a simple question with a painful answer.
but what shall we learn when we give an answer?
how painful this truth shall be,
how cutting,
how revealing,
how poignant,
how scathing.

take the world a second at a time,
savor those moments,
let each breath be a memory written in consciousness.

then we forgot.
seconds became minutes,
we rushed the ticking and the tock.

take the world a minute at a time,
grasp those moments,
let each cycle of the long clock hand be a piece of consciousness.

then we forgot.
seconds became minutes,
minutes became hours,
we rushed the ticking and the tock.

take the world an hour at a time,
keep each moment resting on your hands,
let the happenings of an hour be a fragment of consciousness.

then we forgot.
seconds became minutes,
minutes became hours,
hours became days,
we rushed the ticking and the tock.

take the world a day at a time,
remember those moments in the back of your mind,
let each life of a mayfly be a marker of consciousness.

we forgot.
seconds became minutes,
minutes became hours,
hours became days,
days will become weeks, years, decades, a life.
we rush the ticking and the tock.

we kill those seized seconds because it is easier.
the details are hard,
to remember those seconds takes effort,
it takes attention.

‘carpe that diem,’ they say.
‘just get the big picture,
do not bother with the minutia.’
but then we forget.

forget silence,
forget solitude,
forget stillness,
forget that he said
“be still and know that I am God.”

he speaks in a still, small voice,
he speaks in these seconds,
but when we only listen to a day we hear only thunder,
only great crashes,
only a magnitude of noise.

the tick tock,
tick tock,
tick tock
has been forgotten,
but it still continues.

this small sound still echoes through the ages,
still remains when we do not listen,
it still remembers our mortality,
even when we do not.

we measure our lives in days, but days do not exist without hours.
we measure our lives in hours, but hours do not exist without minutes.
we measure our lives in minutes, but minutes do not exist without seconds.
we measure our lives in seconds, and seconds are born from the ticking and the tock.

each silence is a tick,
each solitude is a tock,
each stillness a moment to slow down.

hear the clock,
hear the reminder of your mortality,
of the indifference of time to you.

be still and know the one who stands beyond that indifference,
beyond the ticking and the tock,
is God.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s