Poet: Erene Rawlings

 

Thread of Life

Throne of Art
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Song Beneath the Noise of Existence

Wherever you may be, stop for a moment.
Close your eyes. Listen for a music
subtle as the beat within you chest.
It is a music you may or may not hear
but know it's always been with us
and always will. Constant consolation
and delight for our imperfect ears.
Take it as a comfort from a friend.

Fishes seem always to hear it.
Watch them. Even in confining fishbowls
or aquariums, they languidly wave
their golden fins
as though they dimly hear ghosts
of songs still heard in all
their splendor by their kin:
the leaping salmon, the dancing dolphin,
and the snorting whales that sing.

Even your docile dog, waiting
At your door has heard it.
It is, in part, the song of YOU
approaching. Your car plays its own song
for him to hear…clear as your footstep or your whistle
or your unforgettable voice…but

it is also the song he hears,
running, ears up,
in the sunny field or curled alone
beside the chilly hearth.

Friend, some weary day,
walk to a hospital. Stand
before the nursery glass. Gaze through it
at newborns swaddled and soft.
Notice their muscless arms
jerk in erratic patterns
as if trying to catch or conduct
a lost symphony or stellar samba they lived with
in the womb.

Take heed, Friend, wherever you are
And wherever you may go.
Stop once in a while. Listen.
beneath the noise of existence,
There is throbbing beat.
Breathe it in. Taste it. Touch
The cunning cadence of it. Let it course through you
vibrant as a rumba or wistful
as a waltz. Let it leap out your pores
to dance a breathy dance
with every living thing.

© Erene Rawlings
All rights reserved

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