The Broken Cuckoo Clock: Has Time Stopped?
A broken cuckoo clock suddenly entered my life,
fizzing its demonic sound every now and then,
not even consistently, what a torture (!) ,
intruding violently my fragile tranquility.
I want so profoundly to defy it,
to let it be, along with my endless silence,
along with all the hovering of my hungry heart…
But how could I?
It penetrates so ruthlessly my dreams,
It crumbles my aura into a million shivers,
I just wish I could squeeze it into the hole of extinction.
Should I smash it with a hammer, hoping it will stop?
I tried it a few times, but it resists so pervasively!
Or should I simply break it, achieving a triumph against inconsistency?
But would I then shockingly miss its demonic sound?
And how would I know that time has not stopped…?
But one day, totally unexpectedly, it just stopped…
No warning, no notice period, no swan song!
As if any broken rhythm should be drowned,
As if we don't need time to count our space,
between here and then, now and there,
tomorrow and never.
As if stagnancy is not movement,
As if we don't need to anticipate,
our miracles and storms to be cancelled…