9 O'Clock

I know this may not sound quite right,

It may come as a shock,

But there’s a place in my small world

That’s always 9 o’clock.

The battery that moves the hands

Died many months ago

And I find something comforting

In letting it just go.

9 o’clock is a nice hour,

Before the day’s begun,

And in the evening 9 tells me

My day is almost done.

Both moments hold that quiet peace

That comes within the storm,

The peace that helps you to believe

That you’ll survive the swarm.

For me, it’s critical to have,

Time to breathe and take pause.

I don’t mind living in the gale’s

Harsh battering because

No matter what chaos life brings,

There’s still time to take stock.

For I know, there’s at least one place,

Where it’s still 9 o’clock!