The Clock Poems
Chapter 1 (God Still Rhymes)
The Clock Poems
With the exception of the first poem in this chapter, these poems were inspired by a wall clock in the room where my wife and I attended a seven week series called Christ Life. The sessions consisted of a video viewed by the whole group, then we broke up into small groups. At the end of each session, we returned to the larger meeting room for a song and prayer. One meeting while waiting for everyone to return from their small groups, something that I had noticed about the clock before, now inspired me to write the following poems. Give me the time and this is what can happen.
Discussion: Explain significance of the room the clock was in
Grandfather Clock
Old Grandfather clock
tick tock
pendulum swinging
those hands purposely
circling
the hours
of time
that face has seen
so much
and there’s no such
time as now
for no matter
how we try
we can’t close
time’s eye
and grandfather clock
keeps sounding on
tick tock
tick tock (1971)
The Broken Clock?
Time stands still
as our hands circle time,
day in, night out.
And without doubt,
if we were to stand still,
time would move forward,
life would not stand still,
no matter our will.
For it is in God our hours
are measured
by his hands on the clock.
Time is his
to stand still
or move forward
at his will.
(The broken clock, I think not.)
Still the Clock Is Still
The clock is still there,
Hands idle, never moving.
So, I take a breath of air
To know that my heart is still moving.
9:30 (AM or PM?),
Though it was just after lunch,
And with that I had a hunch
That I was in a time crunch;
Too late for brunch,
Too early for a snack to munch.
So I sat still,
My hands not moving,
Idly wondering
What was God’s will?
Our Time Standing Still
The clock makes not a sound,
Its hands never turning round
Its numbered face.
There will be no race,
Not today.
That is not
To say
That someday
We will see
That maybe
Time is no stranger
As we face danger
Of our living
And not giving
Our time,
Our dime
To help feed
Those in need.
Time standing still,
Just waiting until
We make the time
To share his grace,
To plant a seed
So someone will see
Life in the manger.
The Clock, the Time, Our Hours
Time, is it ours or is it hours,
The hands that do not move?
As we move through time
Do we make life rhymes?
Whose face is on the clock?
Does it reflect
the number of years,
the number of fears,
the number of tears?
The rhymes that age us
As we look in the mirror,
Is it ours or the face of time?
Will the hands on the clock
Give us time to unlock
The secrets we keep,
Our sins so deep?
Do we have the hours,
At least to start,
To open our heart
And release what was ours?
Time will wait for no one.
Will we be standing still
At the end of time?
Time will not go on into infinity
As we wait for eternity.
We are free,
what ever
we want to be
for all to see
especially he
that is in
Heaven above.
Will we choose
his love
before the end?
Will we accept
the grace
he did send?
In the shining sun,
do we have time
to accept his son,
his sacrifice
to make us right?
The hands on the clock
sometimes move so odd.
At times they do mock
each and every minute of the day.
But if we make time to pray
we will see the hand of God,
feel his infinite love
his saving grace
his sacrifice
for our righteousness,
that we will be for eternity.
The Clock a Few Months Later
Looking at the clock once again I said,
“it is still 9:30, though I just had lunch.”
To which the priest then said,
“that clock hasn’t worked for forty years.”
Can you imagine what time,
as if it were noticed,
has been missed all those years
as those hands stand idle?
(How can hands stand?
I guess the same as us
when we spend time
idle, without Jesus.)
Through the years . . .
tears of fears,
the joys of a baby boy,
a laugh, a cry
as always we try
to give as we live,
a room for meeting
with random seating,
while time seeks what is yours,
what is mine upon sandy shores.
(Can we ever count
the grains of sand
on the sea shore,
let alone those
of the hourglass?)
However, throughout time in that room . . .
we are able to nourish our souls
while being nourished by soup in bowls,
worship
and prayer,
friendship everywhere.
In the room with the clock
time stands still as our
hearts we do unlock,
more than a minute, forever hours.
No, time has not stopped.
The clock on the wall
gives us the time
to answer his call.
Reflection on The Clock a Few Months Later
This was written after attending one of my grandson’s last day of vacation Bible school. There was a church service, a program and nachos. On my way out I talked to the parish priest for a few minutes, which inspired the poem. The clock is the same one that never moved during the meetings in the previous poems and is the same clock in the same gym that our kids attended middle school. No wonder it took so long for them to complete those years.
All poems & Reflections © 2019, Tim Carter
Discussion:
1. What does time mean for our days?
2. Does time just pass us by or do we plan it?
3. Can one over plan time?
4. Most importantly. How much time do we set aside for God and Jesus, or are they constantly with us throughout our days.
Closing Prayer
If you give
Him the times
As you live
His word rhymes
And remember, we are the Kings kids and you will never get rid of us because we are His with Jesus!
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"If you give Him the times As you live His word rhymes "
"We are the King’s kids and you’ll never get rid of us because we are His with Jesus."
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