Hands of a clock 2

We are borne into the world
a face of a clock starts
at birth we are one
our soul and ourselves

as time moves on we grow
we lose touch as we learn
to mimic to pretend
to appease and please

At intervals thing gel
hands come together
and we rejoin our soul
joy peace and heart

time drifts we loose
this peace this state
gentle real and found
in the young and old

midnight approaches
no more need for pretense
no need to fake. we are real
and ready to move beyond

time ceases to have meaning
life beyond life to bliss
find this in life or find it in death
the hand stops new life begins