Metronome
It ticks , ticks , ticks like a clock
I am nine and I know
it demands something
but what ? am I suppose to rush to do ?
It sits on the piano
and demands my attention
but my attention has long since gone elsewhere
at three I would have listened
my fingers would have danced to its beat
but I'm now nine and the time
that has demanded my attention
has been filled with distance , distrust
abuse , and the insistence of law
do this , don't do that , don't talk
don't run , just walk
absolutely absolutely DON'T TALK
at three I heard the music
at nine music no longer exists
in my life , only for those who could hear it
in my life the tick tick tick
means far more than rhythm
it means if I don't get this something
done RIGHT NOW I can expect something
very unpleasant
Here that tick means time
and what must "get" accomplished
no rhythm and it's glorious dance
a poetry of tones
a dance of resonance
like the clear ripples in a pond
and one note , one stone , can move
everything in it's path
But life here is one solid stone wall
unmovable , cold , stone
nothing I know at this age
can transform stone
into a resonating energy
that can complete the cosmos I live in
So , yes I had one recital
and rejected the metronomes influence
timing may be everything
But I am human
and I must account for it
at my own speed
Nov 2014 C Michael Miller
Poetry of Providence
Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2014
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