Smile

The day is embedded in lead:

                motion is impossible during its hours

                clasped within this grey wet clay day.

A weird and weightless glass

                has been poured over the mechanism of the clock,

                smothering every cog, infiltrating every gear

                and has stiffened and set hard and fast.

I peer and pore over

                the blueprinted view of every exploded infinitesimal,

                the meticulously recorded minutes of every moment,

                the bewildering instructions for assembling each second,

                unwrapping each flat packed part, matching it with the manifest

                and wondering about the purpose of the bits left over.

And then suddenly you smile,

                and the glass is cracked

                the plans are ripped up and cast away

                moments melt and fuse, boil and rage,

                in terror and exhilaration

                as the spring of time uncoils at last

                and my heart is catapulted into the unknown once again.