Season 2, Episode 5, God Please Grasp my Hand

The Clock PoemsChapter 1 (God Still Rhymes)The Clock Poems With the exception of the first poem in this chapter, these poems were inspired by a wall clock in the room where my wife and I attended a seven week series called Christ Life.  The sessions consisted of a video viewed by the whole group, then we broke up into small groups.  At the end of each session, we returned to the larger meeting room for a song and prayer.  One meeting while waiting for everyone to return from their small groups, something that I had noticed about the clock before, now inspired me to write the following poems.  Give me the time and this is what can happen.Discussion:  Explain significance of the room the clock was inGrandfather Clock Old Grandfather clocktick tockpendulum swingingthose hands purposelycirclingthe hoursof timethat face has seenso muchand there’s no suchtime as nowfor no matterhow we trywe can’t closetime’s eyeand grandfather clockkeeps sounding ontick tocktick tock   (1971) The Broken Clock?Time stands stillas our hands circle time,day in, night out.And without doubt,if we were to stand still,time would move forward,life would not stand still,no matter our will.For it is in God our hoursare measuredby his hands on the clock.Time is histo stand stillor move forwardat his will. (The broken clock, I think not.) Still the Clock Is StillThe clock is still there,Hands idle, never moving.So, I take a breath of airTo know that my heart is still moving. 9:30 (AM or PM?),Though it was just after lunch,And with that I had a hunchThat I was in a time crunch;Too late for brunch,Too early for a snack to munch. So I sat still,My hands not moving,Idly wonderingWhat was God’s will?Our Time Standing StillThe clock makes not a sound,Its hands never turning roundIts numbered face.There will be no race,Not today.That is not To sayThat somedayWe will seeThat maybeTime is no strangerAs we face dangerOf our livingAnd not givingOur time,Our dimeTo help feedThose in need.Time standing still,Just waiting untilWe make the timeTo share his grace,To plant a seedSo someone will seeLife in the manger. The Clock, the Time, Our Hours Time, is it ours or is it hours,The hands that do not move?As we move through timeDo we make life rhymes? Whose face is on the clock?Does it reflect     the number of years,     the number of fears,     the number of tears?The rhymes that age usAs we look in the mirror,Is it ours or the face of time? Will the hands on the clockGive us time to unlockThe secrets we keep,Our sins so deep?Do we have the hours,At least to start,To open our heartAnd release what was ours? Time will wait for no one.Will we be standing stillAt the end of time?Time will not go on into infinityAs we wait for...