You confuse not speaking with not listening.

Only he with the hobbled foot fully knows the beauty of running. Only he with the severed ear can apprehend what the sweetest music must sound like. Our ailments complete us.

One plus one equals both.

The answer of course, is that the clock isn't meant to measure earthly time, but the time of the soul. Redemption and condemnation time. For the soul, each instant is always a minute short of judgment.

The melody faded like a rainbow after a storm, or like winds calming down at last; and what was left was calm, and possibility, and relief.

The moon rose, an opalescent goddess tipping light from her harsh maternal scimitar.

And a puzzle is for the piecing together, especially for the young, who still believe it can be done.