While resting, an observation
Hearing my heartbeat through my arm—
my arm at least
and what else can I do
but close my eyes and take counsel?
There is something wholly
about this divine cadence,
this substantiating downbeat.
How do I let myself suffer,
how do I suffer myself,
when I am a vessel of music
amongst vessels of music,
into a brazen sforzando,
percussing the pregnant ground with my soles
and tuning the air with the whisper of my limbs?
Inhale: such climax.
Exhale: such resolution.
How could I have been deaf for so long?
At last I can hear my heartbeat
hurling through the staves of air
into fluid harmony
and as this colossal beauty, this child of no and all parents
gurgles and coos and blankets the globe with its lyric embrace,
I am dancing with you
in our triumph
in our glory
in our music.