The Clockmaker’s Climax
Tick, tick tock, tick, tick tock
Backwards and forwards the hands glide and play
Conducting a symphony they turn and they walk
Unnoticed and unhindered, they pace and delay
Crooked fingers follow time’s word and rhyme
They often move fast and rarely move slow
Circling the face, they speak and they sign
Like a river, they ebb and they flow
Long is short and short is long in time’s song
Round and round it continuously winds
To those who will listen, the story is strong
Through ticking and tocking its plot you can find
But listen carefully—its words you may miss
For they tick and tock quicker each day
Just as its Maker has geared hours for bliss
He has also wound minutes for dismay
So do not be troubled when you are sometimes afflicted
Take heart when those hands read the undesired
For that golden hour was picked and depicted
To strip you and purify you in a refining fire
For as it keeps ticking and ticks towards the top
The summit is reached, and the hands move as one
A new song is sung as the seconds again drop
And a new hour begins once the song has begun
The melodious verse of its bells rings aloud
They burst far and wide at the Clocmaker’s climax
Clashing and resounding they rejoice and are proud
Before they disperse and begin to relax
So when those hands strike and fashioned bells chime
Remember whose hands were first struck on a tree
So during that hour, our sin He could bind
And during that minute, our soul He could free
