To Catch a Tear

The clock just chimed 5:00 am
and the neighbourhood birds
are singing the sun up,

and the sun coaxes the earth
to turn again and again and
again without end.

The chimes fill the house,
every corner penetrated by
morning’s evangel.

I sit in the basement and scribble
this poem while around the world

this tick accompanies a death;
that tock witnesses a birth.

The hands are on the face:
now in delight; now in lament;
now in laughter; now…

in time to catch a tear.

4 thoughts on “To Catch a Tear

  1. shoreacres says:

    What a wonderful poem. The first thing I did after reading it was get up, cross the living room, and pull up the weights on my own clock — a ‘grandmother’ floor clock that belonged to my parents.

    Two things have surprised me about the clock. The first is how often I don’t hear it — not only the ticking, but also the quarter-hour chimes. And yet, they continue on. That brings me to the second surprise. Even when I don’t hear the ticking and chiming, when I forget to pull the weights, and the clock stops, the silence catches my attention — I hear that, every time.

    • agjorgenson says:

      When I started in my first parish, the train came through town at 1:00 am in the morning, every morning and woke me up, of course! The parsonage was only a few hundred metres from the track. I thought I would never get used to it, but within a few weeks it slipped into the back ground of my world.

      I love our chime clock. When I can’t sleep at night, I wait for it to speak to me, and find a fine comfort in that. I can well imagine that being even more pronounced when the clock is inherited.

  2. thank you for this quiet and pastoral meditation.

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