My first word was “tick tock”

My favorite blanket had clocks on it

I am and was and always will be obsessed with clocks

And with the idea of time

The non-tangible thing that everything revolves around

“I enjoy spending time with you”

But what is time? And how do you spend it?

My childhood friend Eva had three grandfather clocks

And i was obsessed with them

They were so ornate and full of “time”

Golden pendulum’s swinging

I’d wait, goosebumps and shivers, for them to chime out the hours

Eerily throughout the empty house long after her parents were asleep

Time is something that I love

Time is something that I hate

Hourglasses, electronic clocks, sundials, and monolog clocks

All tell me that I’m dying

Second after second, minute after minute

A withering spring flower in the crisp air of the world’s winter

Closer to meeting my Divine Creator, but also closer to

The unknown

The unfamiliarity of Life after life

God doesn’t reside in “time” but how is that?

I’m so bound by time that I can’t imagine a world without it

Somewhere across the world, someone is waking up as I lie down 

To warm breakfast on the table, and to the rush of another school day

Do animals have any sense of the passing of seconds?

Are they aware that there is day and night and hours?

Do they know that God had tipped sand into their hourglasses as well?

Or does my cat just sit, not knowing, and sleep as if he’ll never wake up

But without “time” what is “never”?

I do not know, and nor do you

So I’m just going to watch these fish swim 

For a time