>> Thursday, January 31, 2008
Who heard the first? Who’ll hear the last?
A clock mysteriously beats on past.
No mouth, no tongue, no word it speaks
For all we need are warning beats.
It screams, it cries! It begs, it pleads!
But only listening ears it feeds
For ticks and beats and dongs and chimes
Mean nought to those who love the times.
Its language beats, “Work! Pray! Fast! Weep!”
The cause of fruit that time should reap.
“It’s time… it’s time,” its echoes cry,
“To count your days before they die.”