Heartbeat
There is nothing steadier than a heartbeat
Bah dum, bah dum, bah dum
A rhythm in two parts
That repeat over and over and over
The natural metronome that sets the pace of everything else
As the rest of the body falls into line with the swinging of the pendulum
Bah dum- breathe in- bah dum- breathe out
Each heartbeat is connected
Because the first beat always sounds like it is waiting for the next
Waiting, waiting, waiting to be whole
Bah dum, bah dum, bah dum
One two, one two, one two
Only calming because it is continuous
Because over time we believe that the unbalanced bah will always be followed by dum
We stop holding our breath in the short silence that stretches between beats
As we wait for the pattern to unfold
Only then does the silence feel comfortable
When we become confident that the rhythm will go on
Having listened for enough time
To convince ourselves that the one two, one two, one two is sustainable
People settle comfortably into patterns
We grow fond of things we can predict, things we can understand because the world doesn’t follow a comfortable rhythm
And sometimes, a heartbeat is the only steady thing we have
I’m grateful to have a heartbeat
Because it reminds me that life is continuous
That seconds do not slide by unmarked
But instead, even if I am not paying attention
My body is always keeping the time
Sometimes I wish that my writing was as steady as my heartbeat
That the pulse of my words didn’t sound so uneven
As I press their heart against my own ear
Words that I want to rise and fall in rhythm with the rest of my body
Bah dum- breathe in- bah dum- breathe out
But instead seem to lose their steadiness
Like a well-worn cloth that eventually frays at the corners
And gets caught on the metal edges of who I am today
Like Alice, lost in Wonderland, who said there was no sense in bringing up the past
Because she was a different person yesterday
Even now these words will not settle into a rhythm without effort
The reader must pause and breathe to let the beats play out
One -pause- two, one -pause- two, one -pause- two
Instead of letting the eyes pass over to the next line
Too quick to keep pace with the meaning behind the words
Only able to grasp the blurry afterimages
Like the hazy picture from a camera too quickly moved.
Trinity Sloan is a high school senior and avid writer. She has authored one poetry book, Freckles Like Stars, and has received the Scholastic Gold and Silver Keys for past poetry works.
The Literary Forest Poetry Magazine 