In the stillness of the chapel the clock ticks
They sit quietly and consider
The polished wood releases its historic smell and triggers latent memories
Varnish and damp combine to unlock the door to the past
Each one trying to recapture a former time, another era
The clock ticks
These few minutes of near silence give space to listen and think, to ponder and pray
To give space to what is important
They look around at the others, wandering what is happening inside their private thoughts
Are minds wandering, trying to focus but being led astray?
Is God drawing near, or does he seem a distant stranger?
The clock ticks
Why are they here and why do they keep returning?
The stillness ends as they finish with a prayer
The door is closed and locked, yet still the clock ticks
Unbothered by the empty pews
Independent of everything except the small charge of electricity and the laws of physics
For the next seven days the hands continue to move at different speeds
Does the clock tick if there is no one to hear the sound?
A week later the door is opened and the few find their places again
A hymn is sung, a Bible passage is read, and a prayer is spoken
The clock ticks and maintains its unruffled, circular sweep
For generations a clock has presided over the affairs of the chapel
Many have come and gone, loved and laughed, cried and mourned
Will the clock's batteries last, will they need to be replaced?
Will the tick of the clock endure, or will it gradually die?
The clock ticks, regular and rhythmical
It ticks during the spring as the land germinates and the lambs leap
The warmth of summer and the hazy sunshine are punctuated by its tempo
Autumn turns to winter, yellow leaves become frosted
The clock taps out its beat, tick, tick, tick, tick
Another year passes, 'time and tide wait for no man'
The ticking clock is the same, it continues its work without fear or favour
Each second is announced with the same hushed fanfare as the previous one
It may look as if time itself is dependent on the clock's mechanism
But of course, that is not the case, time will continue whether the clock ticks or not
But the clock ticks on
Its life continues without a break
The door opens again, and preparations are made for another gathering
Lights and heating are switched on, old hymn books are placed on freshly dusted pews
A larger than usual congregation sit and stand, sing and pray, listen and think
The clock ticks
Words of sadness and regret are spoken, memories of former times return
There has been a past but now there will no longer be a future
Hope has been deferred for too long, hearts have become sick
The door closes and is locked for the final time
The damp is left to its own devices, no one will hold back the slow tide of dust
Cobwebs will be built by undisturbed spiders
The clock stops ticking, but no one is there to hear the silence
Years later the door is opened once more, the chapel lies broken and bruised
Down but not out
The clock is taken down from its place on the wall, a new battery is found
The clock ticks again
