That all the books he’d read
With boys and men of whom its said
They dared to reach beyond their state
And out of need, fulfilled their fate
Doing deeds, that were great
So maybe clockwork boy could be
More than clockwork, he would see.
The clockwork boy waited.
He dared to dream a time was fated
For him to reach beyond his state
And do a deed considered great
So wait he did for proper time
In meantime reading prose and rhyme
Dreaming big he hoped to shine
So maybe clockwork boy could do
A thing that poets will write too.
The clockwork boy observed.
Watched for needs where he could serve
Based not on gifts he bore innate
But hoped that gifts were born of fate
So plunging in when need arose
Not a dipping of the toes
A head-first plunge is what he chose
So maybe clockwork boy could trust
That though he lacked, it’d be enough.
So clockwork boy acted.
And gears and springs were all impacted
By strain of acts beyond his scope
But clockwork boy did naught but hope
That maker did have this in mind
When gears installed and springs he’d wind
Crafted as… one of a kind.
So maybe clockwork boy won’t break
If acts were done all for his sake.
So clockwork boy functioned.
Doing deeds with one assumption
That deeds were done, not based on skill
But acts of grace done by his will
For to proclaim the gospel call
When fools and weak give their all
Then wise and strong of world will fall
And now clockwork life exhibits
Sufficient grace in all that it is.
Then clockwork boy seemed
To fill his hopes and live his dreams
But clockwork parts won’t this strain take
Springs will fail and gears will break
No greatness now like stories old
Deeds unwritten, life untold
Wood hay stubble now unfold
Picked-up pieces moved aside
Pondering now what he had tried.
So clockwork boy pondered.
“What went wrong?” is what he wondered
He thought it wasn’t based on skill
Or wits or might or force of will
Weren’t it simply gospel grace
Enabled feeble, take their place
Along with chosen glorious race
Now he huddled, parts in hand
No strength remained to even stand.
So clockwork boy darkened.
No longer heard the call he harkened.
No longer see the light from sky
No longer feel a breeze go by
Now alone in depths of pit
Ridiculous joke, piece o’ shit
Absent hope, this was it.
No clockwork repairs in the deeps
Utter despair… a miserable heap.
The clockwork boy looked
For any hope in maker’s book.
He longed to find a simple word
From voice of him he often heard
Convey kindness when he spoke
Loved with simple lightweight yoke
The laden who were not a joke
But crafted with eternal thought
Into this scheme clockwork bought.
The clockwork boy was let down.
It seemed to him he had not found
The things that maker said were true
Of what a clockwork boy could do
Where was he when springs did break
When gears did fail and did not make
Any difference for his sake?
Does he stand now so far off
While the scoffers choose to scoff.
But clockwork boy remained.
Through grief there was some faith sustained
That maker had not failed at all
But kept a plan with greater call
Beyond the clockwork boy’s own thoughts
With greater plans and fuller plots
Tying clockwork mind in knots.
But written by a loving hand
He trusted now the makers plans.
So clockwork boy picked up
Broken pieces all messed up
Worthless now it seemed to him
For anything he might have been
Tomorrow is an unknown thing
Miseries or joy to bring
Letting go of everything
He clung now to this only thought.
His life by shed-blood had been bought.
