The Clock

The clock ticks

And ticks.

 

Then at one particular moment

The ticking stops.

 

The last tick

Was the last tick.

 

Man’s life

Is on a timer.

 

Like the timer

At a whirlpool

 

The water is swirling,

The bubbles are rolling.

Then in one tick,

The timer stops.

The water turns still and clear.

The bubbles disappear.

 

A man is busy building an empire.

He is on his way to finalize a deal.

While he is on his way

He receives a phone call from his broker.

 

He has had a windfall.

But he must sign some papers.

 

After he finalizes the deal at 3:40pm,

He will head to the broker’s office.

 

But on his way,

He must stop to pick up some bread.

Company is arriving at 6:30pm.

 

He must wrap things up by midnight.

As he has a plane to catch at 7am.

 

As he enters the supermarket,

He rolls the shopping cart past the tomatoes

And he suddenly collapses.

 

Massive heart attack.

In the produce aisle.

 

What happened?

 

The clock stopped.

 

Little did he know

That the walk from the car

To the supermarket door . . .

Would be the last few steps of his life.

 

During those three minutes,

He was a dead man walking.

 

The lethal injection

Would be applied

Just as he passed the tomato aisle.

 

During his birth

There was much pomp and ceremony.

 

During his life

There were so many plans.

Up’s and down’s.

Futures and fortunes.

Many possibilities.

Many pains.

 

All of it . . .

Leading up to a simple walk

Past the tomatoes.

 

No warning.

No ceremony.

No final burst of light.

No whisper of a farewell.

 

No pat on the back

For a life of struggles.

 

No handshake

For a life of accomplishment.

 

Each man

Is but a tick of the clock

From The End.

 

In mid-breath.

In mid-stride.

In mid-planning.

In mid-thought.

 

Man can say goodbye to his family

When he leaves for work.

 

But he rarely has the opportunity

To say goodbye to his family

When he leaves the earth.

 

Life asks Death . . .

“You are simply going to pull the plug right now?”

Death says,

“Yes.”

Life says,

“At least allow him to return home for a moment.”

Death says,

“Sorry, time is up.”

 

Namaste.