Unfinished Work

Looking at the clock, I stare at how each number is arranged. In order it sat inside the clock, caged by the glass and mounted on the wall. I wonder what would happened if each number was not in its proper place. Imagine the damage it might cause. Just imagine the confusion it will bring. As I stare blankly at those numbers; 1 to 12 I counted inside my head, I was distracted by the hands of the clock. Each of which is moved by its own rhythm, pace, purpose and direction. But suddenly, as I stare deeply into the clock, the hands of the clock grew heads. I gazed at it a little bit longer and later it grew arms and legs. I was amazed with what I saw. These clock hands were alive.  It had a life of its own. And then it struck me, these hands are alive! It represented people. They were people who were far different from each other, working together to serve a higher cause and tend to a higher calling. 


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