The Horologist

Welcome to the Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is “new years.” This week’s post comes to us from Val Muller, who wrote the following poem—on the theme of time—in memory of her father-in-law, who passed unexpectedly earlier this month.

The Horologist
By Val Muller

He was a warden of time,
Counting seconds, days, minutes, hours
With meticulous care.
His favorite color, green, is the hue of life and growth—
Like the internal ticking, the motion of movements and springs,
The eternal return of summers and springs
Even after the darkest winter—the color of forever.

A custodian of time, he measured days, minutes, hours,
Shepherding every ticking second
The way he protected his wife, his son, his loved ones.
He wound movements and restored clock faces,
Made memories and left smiles etched on cheeks.
He fixed hour hands and held frightened ones,
Restoring resonating chimes in the silence.

A steward of timepieces, he counted minutes, hours, and years.
He fixed broken clasps
And applied bandages to wounded knees.
He replaced scratched crystals and drained batteries,
Nursed his wife to health and helped his son allay fears.
He kept the right pace, luminous paint glowing on watch faces
And his luminous smile glowing through the years.

A warden of time, he counted days, hours, years,
Mechanical wonders keeping pace through the silence,
Making sense of Time, too great for our understanding.
He knows eternity now, but the gears he built remain,
His ticking wonders, luminous hands pointing our way
And the incandescence of his memory shining in every sunset
And the chimes of his clocks sounding a bit like forever.

The Spot Writers—our members:

RC Bonitz

Val Muller

Catherine A. MacKenzie

Kathy Price

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