“The clock is all wrong”
Innocence
A mind, reeling.

“They never seem to set them correctly,
anymore.”

Eyes, find light
The gleaming line of sight
of old bricks, stacked high
and laid down right.
A warm face, on all sides
catching morning minds
glancing up
searching for place, and meaning.

“What do you need it for, anyway?
We’ve got these, right?”
The screen springs to life
Time, in 3 million lights
A flowerbed, its colors
tamed, and bleeding.

“Yeah, but why have it
up there
if they’re not gonna care for it?”

In reply, somewhere deep inside
The air tumbles
through sheet and pipe
reverberating tone
and beaming information,
singing.

Wings, take flight
A sudden urge, to be alive
“OK, now,
the bells are ringing.”

Back of the Page

Today's poem was inspired by a church that I pass by on my morning commute. It's undergoing a full renovation, which has left the clocktower seemingly fixed in time. Each time I pass by, the time seems to be stuck right where it was the day before.

In writing this, I wanted to explore themes of the church tower clock being this benevolent service offered to all people, and then forgotten as time moved on. In my mind, someone was complaining that the time is never set correctly. A modern voice seems to say "why bother relying on the clock tower when all the information in the world is here - right here - now?"

The latest iPhone has something like 3.8 million lights in it, and they can each take the shape of any color they want - combining to make new colors and blinking in and out of existence as we need them. How accurate, controlled, and convenient.

Sometimes you'll walk by a quiet church and think its abandoned, only to hear beautiful organ pipes erupt, or the bells spring to life - its as if to say "I'm still here, and I have something to say" - it's hard to argue with or ignore sounds rushing out at high volume, without warning. Like birds scattering from the clocktower, it can startle you, and remind you that you're here.

I don't consider myself particularly religious and I don't attend church, but I do enjoy seeing something dormant spring to life in surprising ways, especially if it challenges us to look around and notice things. It makes me want to share the time and places with the people around me.

Thanks for reading!