Marching to the beat
No sounds, nor voices.
But I hear it.
Dull, nearly inaudible;
But I can hear it.
An evolving tempo:
Deepening the rumble.
Then, before long, something’s-
The world’s ambient noises fade;
All but the deafening percussion.
As it draws on your thoughts,
It grows louder &that’s when:
The beat hastens your breath,
The rumbling offsets your heart,
While amplifying- the need.
Observing the changes,
Your eyes close: darting back &forth,
You see it, no words, just actions;
Your heart quickens; adjusting…
Following the tempo in your mind.
It’s everywhere, it’s everything.
Moving your limbs,
Until there’s nothing left,
But your mind,
The growing tempo,
The liberating movements,
& it’s temporary freedom.