*Based on True Events
he chose to be under the moon
where the sunlight couldn’t convince him
that the quiet pounding in his chest
was once hers. His pain outweighs
his fear and he gently nudges the chair
under him. his desolate heart breaks one last time.
his body sways the winter’s night
a rapid heart
beats not against
some tide
imagined or other
(wise); it beats not
against some tide
a-shore or inside.
It beats for, despite its
urgency, its speed,
it needs to feeeeeeeel
and the feeler needs feeling:
to be felt.
so, reach in
inquire
so, listen in
inside
so, quiet in
invite
the palpitation
you feel
is felt in a nation
the palpitation
you feel
is the blessing of
empathy
of connection
of sacred Twoness
of the Olde amidst this
newness.
so, beat
beat
beat.
beat
beat
beatbeatbeat
beat
The drum within
beneath sun-dried skin
is echoing against the ages
and railing against nothing.
It seeks feeling
and hearing
and blood...
rushing home
-ShhDragon
(for Lillian Gaffney.)
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