Homunculus that fleshes out the clock
the Chaplain knocked upon the deck that time
resuscitates itself, damps down the shock
then animates the tick, the tock, the chime.
Descartes was right: this tiny Spirit's climb
gives all hands heart: they rotate, synchronise.
The Padre, hearing ticking, scans the skies
for omens, bleats Amen and barks his shin;
believing Dawkin's proven Ghost's demise,
winds "mended" clock. Won't see the Grin within.