Nothing else is sounding but the voice of it's tick tock
Paced and ever so rhythmic it is keeping a steady time
So that the truly quiet can be moved into some rhyme.
Second after second it is clicking us into grace
Soothing us with its rhythm and its ever predictable pace
Providing us with its stability and the sense of here and now
It is keeping us in its vision of some measured space somehow..
Without the grasp of moments or the measurement of time
We would become a bit nomadic and our incompletes would climb
Something about the orderliness that is kept up by the clock
Keeps our minds from wandering and our mouths from idle talk...
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