Tick-tock happens every second. Moving on with a steady beat. Turning moments into hours. And hours into seasons. She seamlessly trickles through generations. Witnessing the grand evolution of the Creator’s handiwork.
Tick-tock resists discrimination. Impacts on a mass scale. And does so without hesitation. Though apparent to all, tick-tock may creep on by. Harmlessly shifting through the backdrop. One blink after another.
From time to time, tick-tock clangs and penetrates the sound barrier. Feeling heavier. Somehow more important than her presence in the past. Somehow crafting the ticks to come.
Tick-tock is identified in countless ways. From grandfather clocks passed down to watches hanging ‘round the wrist. From dials in the sun to inventive devices connected to cell phone towers. From physical hands on an imposing clock to digital blotches of ink on a screen. Tick-tock has no preference with how she is marketed. For ongoing movement depends not on those seeking to capture her.
Tick-tock refuses to stand still. Even though she may give off that very appearance. Tick-tock invades the waiting room of a hospital. And shimmies into the last days of a long-awaited vacation. She makes an appearance during all trimesters of pregnancy. And claims space in a corrective conversation. Tick-tock happens during pivotal moments in the big game. And lingers from the end of one football season to the beginning of the next. Tick-tock bullies her way into announcements of tragedy. And joyfully floats by in times of celebration. Tick-tock is steadfast as the heart flutters. Or when it breaks.
Tick-tock has an intimate relationship with the Creator. Who claims more than the skill of crafting a clock. Or the ingenuity to make it wind. But deeper still, filling the very space between tick and tock. Amen.
For more musings, visit www.confessionalmusings.weebly.com
Tick-tock resists discrimination. Impacts on a mass scale. And does so without hesitation. Though apparent to all, tick-tock may creep on by. Harmlessly shifting through the backdrop. One blink after another.
From time to time, tick-tock clangs and penetrates the sound barrier. Feeling heavier. Somehow more important than her presence in the past. Somehow crafting the ticks to come.
Tick-tock is identified in countless ways. From grandfather clocks passed down to watches hanging ‘round the wrist. From dials in the sun to inventive devices connected to cell phone towers. From physical hands on an imposing clock to digital blotches of ink on a screen. Tick-tock has no preference with how she is marketed. For ongoing movement depends not on those seeking to capture her.
Tick-tock refuses to stand still. Even though she may give off that very appearance. Tick-tock invades the waiting room of a hospital. And shimmies into the last days of a long-awaited vacation. She makes an appearance during all trimesters of pregnancy. And claims space in a corrective conversation. Tick-tock happens during pivotal moments in the big game. And lingers from the end of one football season to the beginning of the next. Tick-tock bullies her way into announcements of tragedy. And joyfully floats by in times of celebration. Tick-tock is steadfast as the heart flutters. Or when it breaks.
Tick-tock has an intimate relationship with the Creator. Who claims more than the skill of crafting a clock. Or the ingenuity to make it wind. But deeper still, filling the very space between tick and tock. Amen.
For more musings, visit www.confessionalmusings.weebly.com