The Ticking Clock

By Sachindran Kattiparambil

Why does the ticking clock tick?
O Mother, I can't sleep,
The night is dark, the days dreary.
Run your hands through my hair,
O Mother, kiss me and stop
The ticking clock and tuck me in.

It's ticking away faster
Now that the dawn is nearer.
Stop the running hands, O Clock,
But keep yours running through my hair.

The school bell will ring soon,
Announcing it's time to be in.
Hug me closer, don't let time fly,
Clip its wings and be by me, Ma.

O child, go to sleep,
While there's time still.
Do not begrudge time,
Neither be by it swayed.
Nor by your wishes will it stop—
Its mighty hands go on and on,
Though one's heart may stop.
Tomorrow at school you may
Want it to fly—how can it,
If its wings are clipped today?

O Mother, your hand on
My head may be soft,
But they are mightier than
The mighty hands of time.
They are a God-given pair that
Lead me to the land O' sleep.
Time stops when they
Run through my hair.
I am transported
To the tranquil land of oblivion.
It takes me to that past
World of calm and innocence
That once used to be mine—
Fret-free days of yore,
Far from the triumphs
And tribulations of this world
And its worldly ways
That men grown old and young
Try and tire themselves.
O Mother, your hands are fountains
Of endless love lasting an eternity.