is it strange
that everything
beats?

that we move
to rhythmic pulsing
as sunlight travels in
wave upon wave upon wave
arcing and ebbing
like falling crests
beating upon the shore of the earth

we move to beats
fill our music with a tintinnabulation
a  marking of time
that moves our feet
that moves us forward
as if on strings

heart strings?

tied to a greatness
that keeps time
pounds it out like a blacksmith
hammering our lives
folding us in upon ourselves
that each blow may create
strength anew
that each strike rings
forever inside ourselves

till we dance to the echo
till we seek to recreate the beat
the beat that creates
till we seek one-another
seek to create in heated music
with the background beat
always the sound that measures time
time that was
time that is
time that will be
one

beat

at

a

time