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Timing Makes All The Difference
Funny, how timing makes All the difference In a marriage; Whether it is one of love, Or, of convenience. We never thought to question. Living our lives together In such a small space, Between the ticks of seconds; Each of us trying to find Our own particular place. We never sought to question. Mismatched clocks, unwinding, Existing on strands of hope; Always a tick too early, a tock too late. We played our daily game of escape To careers to help us cope. We were too busy to question. Then the children, and even less time. Stoically, we went yawning earlier into daylight. Like watches, unsynchronized, We briefly brushed in halls and doorways; Then, stumbled in the darkness of time's night. We were too tired to question. The children grew up, somehow. Yet, even back then, their questions got so lost In our clocks; stuck there for hours, Waiting for us to catch up. I wondered what would be their final cost Because we never stopped to question. We lived so long, so closely far apart. Then, a short moment, And all I wanted was to run away. From my mouth it all came tumbling out. My need to stretch, Expand my goals, throw out my clock, begin the outward reach. Finally, quietly, you had your say. You said, "I love you. Let's run away together. Life's a beach." Had eons passed since both our mid-life crises, Or, again, my misperception Of time's movements; my miscalculating minutes into years Before we wound down long enough to listen, much less touch. In one millisecond long exception, Both our clocks had stopped. I cried, as I had many times before. Only this time My tears fell in unison with yours. We talked. Made plans. Felt each others' fingertips with lips. Made love. Traded our old house for one beside the sea. Phoned each of our children. Talked for hours. Now retired, travelling, we often stop to question.
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