Musical Time

There is something soothing

With the ticking of the clock,

Reverberating the walls,

Breaking the silence by drumming

The room in meter and score.

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A steady rhythm, keeping pace

With wondering thoughts,

Like sticks on a meadow

Of sanded wood and skin.

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Just a pulse to count

The day's time,

Ever reminding you

That this performance is

Heard only once.

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How many ticks are in lifetime?

How many harmonies,

And melodies are

Intertwined with this backbeat?

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What adventures are heard,

Where is the climax

Of this song, ever arching,

Always rising to tension

Towards a final refrain?

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Then, in mezzoforte, vibrations

Eventually come to rest,

With no pin laden arms

To draw and replay our tune.