The script is you and me

When I came into possession of this clock, it was wrapped in newspapers dated 1961. It is broken and does not run, and, I assume, this is why it was in a box wrapped in newspapers more than a half-century old. I have no idea how old it actually is, and it makes me wonder. I wonder how many times its tick-tock has sounded at the conclusion of an old year never to be known again, and how many times its chimes have announced the birth of a new year born with hope and anticipation of a better life .... I wonder. I wonder how many eyes have focused intently on this clock to watch it slip from one year to the next. I wonder how many shouts of "Happy New Year" it has heard. (Did you notice? We have moved from us watching it to it observing us, as if this clock were as alive as we. (Is it, in its own way?) I wonder how many lips it has witnessed kiss as a pledge of sorts to live better and faithfully and bravely into the unknown future of the coming year. I have located a horologist who will repair this rather dismal (in appearance) "creature" and make it run again. He will bring it back to life again, sort of .... I think. In a sense, those who watch time remain part of life as long as time exists; those who measure time come and go, arrive and leave, with the passing years. As for the music about time posted here today, take your pick which melody, which set of words, if either, is a reflection of you. As for today and tomorrow, make them whatever you wish them to be: The coming "happy new year" is your year to be what you make it. See you there ....