Saturday, January 8, 2011

Heart Poem

My heart, that used to pump along so pleasantly, has come now to a different sort of music.

There is someone inside those red walls, irritated and even, occasionally, irrational.

Years ago I was part of an orchestra: our conductor was a wild man. He was forever rapping the music stand for silence. Then he would call out some correction and we would begin again.

Now again it is the wild man.

I remember the music shattering, and our desperate attentiveness.

Once he flung the baton over our heads and into the midst of the players....What silence!  Then someone picked it up and it was passed forward back to him. He rapped the stand and raised his arms. Then we all breathed again, and the music restarted. 

Oh Mary, is your heart faltering?  Does it in the middle of the night awaken you with it's crazy out of synch rhythm, sharply drawing your attention to your body, and to what your life may be?  Perhaps you lie awake for hours, wondering if the coming rising will be your last.  Then the day lightens, and you restart your day like you have thousands of times, ever more grateful for the music of the spheres?

Have you had nights like this, and mornings as well?

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