The Eternal Mechanism

In the heart of time's relentless march, a machine stands tall, Its gears whisper secrets of the past, a silent, unyielding call. Iron and wood, a testament to human hands, A symphony of motion, where the stillness of the earth is transcended. The wheel turns, a symbol of endless cycles, A dance of precision, where every click is a promise kept. The artisan's touch, a blend of art and science, A bridge between the seen and the unseen, the known and the unknown. In its shadow, we find ourselves, Each of us a part of this grand, intricate clockwork. Its cogs and levers, a metaphor for our own lives, A journey of discovery, where every turn is a step forward. The machine speaks to the soul, A reminder of our place in the vast, unending flow. It is not just a creation, but a reflection, A mirror of our aspirations, our dreams, and our fears. In its embrace, we find solace, For in its eternal rhythm, we too are eternal. A beacon of hope, a symbol of progress, The Eternal Mechanism, forever turning, forever alive.