What is this
\nbetween me and clocks?
\nA clock in every room.
\nAround my wrist,
\nparceled out in hexagons,
\nglass faces,
\nstanding in corners like
\nabandoned children.
\nAll this in homage
\nto the invisible.
\nThe oscillation of gears,
\npendulums,
\nthe rhythm of the heart,
\na prophesy of continuance.
\nAs if there is no end
\nto the traveling of waves,
\nwings above the earth,
\nthe waltz of chaos
\nturned to music.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s what I sense in trains,
\nin planes overhead.
\nThat we are always exchanging places,
\nthe continuity of currents
\nin a river.
\nThe falling of a voice in space
\nbreathing and exchanging vows.
\nThe clocks around me?
\nMy existential soul taking note
\nof itself.
\nLife coming and going,
\nsomewhere between now and then.
\nFor whom the bell tolls,
\nthose I love,
\nfor whom is you,
\ncaretaker of me,
\nlove at first sight
\nin everything I do,
\ntime and again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
What is this between me and clocks? A clock in every room. Around my wrist, parceled out in hexagons, glass faces, standing in corners like…<\/p>\n