Back in the season of time

Back in the season of time, clocks chimed, lovers rhymed in the synchronistic universe. You clocked in, clocked out and clocked up the miles.Then time disappeared, blank empty space, no appointments, no past, love lost in the abyss, curling towers of mist. Love was a diminishing chord strummed into submission. Time played fast and loose and all meaning fooled itself. Out of chaos, a drum beat, out of nothing a breathy voice, on the beat an organ seasoned by a timely song..

Trev Teasdel