The Watchmaker by Woodlock released 2021
She stood upon the tides of time with yesterday and tomorrow the rising and falling tide. A moment of unconscious serenity within the hurricane of emotion. A breath of air met with a breath of smoke. A touch of salt melded with the footsteps that brought her here. She stood. And time washed over her.
She’s been told of these shores, warned of them, promised them. Her mom spoke of the dangers that lay upon these tides. Waves that draw you into the past, into the disarray. Her grandad told her of the sparkle that lay upon these sands. I suppose both truths were honest. The mainland had offered her a life much like her mother’s. One of failed promises, betrayed love, and burnt hopes. The mainland had shown her life, or what her mother vehemently called, “the greatest bitch of all”. It had shown her pain. Her mother had donned the glasses of pain and worn them since her youth. Pain, pain, pain. Her mother’s reality. I hope that it doesn’t become hers.
Her grandad had seen pain. Pain of a visceral nature. Pain that comes with the whistles of falling metal. Pain that comes with friends present one moment and gone the next. Pain that comes with fulfilling the maniacal orders of those who can’t see the tides at their feet. Those who repeat and repeat and repeat. Her grandad had seen pain. But pain was not the lens that he chose. He had come to these shores, after the blood and carnage had been washed from his skin. He came to these shores and gazed into the past, gazed into the present, gazed into the beyond. And he saw more. Pain, yes, but more.
She stood upon the tides of time. Her pain was unique as those of anyone who’s feet meet the wake. It pulled. It pushed. And she stood. Pain, pain, pain. But also, a glimmer.
I like to believe that she may have found more. All I know is that the waves pulled and pushed. And she stood.
