Winding My Great, Great Grandchild by Kristina Woodhill tick duration, duration, duration I am in no hurry to wind the 10,000 year clock back when these world-wide clocks were someone's visionary babies, children to foster thinking long term, I fashioned my own quest to observe who would come, how long they would visit if their experience was transformative my hosts, Nevada's rugged mountains; ancient bristlecone pines, my tent braces I set up camp in the pines' warped sparse shade gathered old twigs to trace lazy dreams in thin quartzitic till I borrowed eagle's eye black bear's coat bobcat's stealth innate skills to bolster my metered observation they do not fear day's steady rhythm nor soon-blanching bone's white sheen tock by night, shadows and I dance exchange our shifting, glancing faces by day, sun and I dance this clock also powered, salsa to sun's symphony I observe and salute each entrant's knock come to climb up into The Long Now come to the 200 foot spiral stone step by stone step come to hand-turn the wheels noting that pilgrim's past progress, setting this pilgrim's future chime tick massive gears gears turning turning slowly slowly meshing meshing stone stone ceramic ceramic smooth smooth & looming looming tunnels tunnels unlit unlit walls walls envelope envelope echoes echoes chatter chatter footfall footfall step, step step up, up, up up & winding winding gears gears massive tock some may seek to round out thirty seven and a third lamented missed rose buds or timid puckers others might seek a faster gear to melt a quinquacentennial in glacial ethics time machine, it is not time machine, it is one pilgrim describing the light at the top of his climb god's eye, he said, a distant tease, illuminating only a little of the inner tantalizing mystery tick I hum along to each unique chiming lent to my open-air ears fill the varied spaces between each entry gathering seed shards from opening stars flashing distant smiles, temper tantrums, eureka moments I lasso Halley's tail each 75th taking that ring-around-the-galaxy ride I self promised pilgrim with cocked eyebrow came out quite mad, one tick-a-year confounded each step up he took, needing a partner can't keep time in a stairwell, can't keep it hidden from all seeking eyes, can't lock it up like a clock in a closet, surely they know that time loves to fly tock two centuries ago, bored I morphed, lizard-like, skimmed ground level environs; subtle tremors from the far west tickled my underside in land waves smoke from the north one hot season billowed about, forcing affairs with rain clouds, producing rain drops of odd ashen faces peering at each other as they fell plopping and sloppy all around; I fled to a rock's crack pilgrim with thick, prismatic spectacles convinced she had seen writing on the dark inner walls now you think you see it now is when you don't think tick I slid into a bristlecone pine needle for a time admiring its persistence, stiff and spotted with resin a leaf miner seeking the essential core I hopelessly toiled at still I could not retain myself pilgrim on hands and knees muttering about cathedrals and deadlines convinced the next clue to the location of his deity's sacred throne rested on the fifty fifth step tock around the five thousand, buzzard vultures and I agreed to begin fleshing out the complexities I begged to keep one good eye a strong throwing arm four of my best curved ribs atop my knoll I hurled my boomarangs to earth's four compass points my whispered queries resting lightly on each tabla rasa bone answers came back carved scrimshaw of intricate mazelike logic, snagged flailing philosophies pulling at rib tips like a child's too small sweater vest, and one very smooth rib with a note, dripping red, return to sender – sorry, we are temporarily out of ink pilgrim sits quietly on a high knoll reading through a small bone yard, picking them up and throwing them occasionally, trying to encourage a different answer 04/30/2012 Author's Note: http://longnow.org/clock/ Posted on 04/30/2012 Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill Member Comments on this Poem Posted by Linda Fuller on 05/01/12 at 03:44 PM Epic, extraordinary. Posted by Joan Serratelli on 05/02/12 at 10:53 PM Kristina- you outdid yourself- this is as good as it gets. An extrodinary piece. Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/06/12 at 01:55 PM Brilliant piece of work, Kristina. I've always had a soft spot for poems that deal with time. Love the messages and construction. Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 05/06/12 at 07:29 PM With in this eclectic poem, I find questions to ponder, thoughts to weigh, and the wonder that is time itself. Here's to 10,000 years of thought and responsibility...required by time, from all of us. The Long Now has always been with us. An excellent write. Thanks. Posted by Laura Doom on 05/20/12 at 11:23 AM Mind as ultimate time-machine--the secret is ignoring 'time', I guess :> Inimitable presentation of a gift labelled 'now'. Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)