Winds of change and winds of the spirit
4/25/15 at 08:05 AM 0 Comments


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I think I'll leave the pots tonight,
Because I'm not a machine,
I don't want to be a clockwork thing,
Wound up in the morning
And run down at night,
Sleeping in a bed of dreams
Where nothing is what it seems or means,
Phantoms of spirit free to roam
That make my waking thoughts
Cling to wings, waking to the time of day
When I may no longer play
But like a clock keep time, and be on time;
Such a ticking and moving in motion
In an out, roundabout, fast or slow,
Measured woe like a piston on the go.
I'll leave the pots tonight and let them
Wait for me; perhaps I'll then be free.
But can I really do without a clock, tic
Toc, tic toc, letting me know when to sew
And reap, when to wake and when to sleep?
To do away with time! And like a nursery rhyme
Never be on time; would I then be free
Without a clock to bother me?
What after all is time but the son's bright light
And the earth's dark night,
The moons bright face, and the stars milky haze.
Why not let time stay where it is in the sun
And moon, 'To divide the day from the night,
And for seasons and for light?'
(Genesis 1:14)

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