Some days life seems to be an endless stream of chaos and frustration. I know from many of your posts, that most of you can probably relate to that feeling. It's particularly hard to find comfort and peace in our lives when dealing with the constant struggle of a chronic illness like RA. I wrote this poem a couple of weeks ago while struggling with a heart arrythmia problem...still don't know what is causing it though it's calmed down now. Putting words to feelings helps me quell the anxiety and find purpose in the midst of confusion. It doesn't make problems disappear, but it does help. Maybe some of you can relate to this poem.
The Drum
By
The drum beat slowly, a pulsating sound,
Roving waves of intensity that bound
The shadowy fragments of a spiritual quest
To a sanctuary that promised rest.
Primitive rhythms, channeling insights,
A kaleidoscope of fractured lights,
Beckoning to a contemplative existence
That heals the scars of fear’s resistance.
The soothing flow of pounding beats
Encounter possibility of heroic feats.
Emboldened consciousness empowers
A journey to heights of lofty towers.
Vibrations burrow through dirt and rock
Expelling words that laugh and mock,
Yet speak of calming solitude,
A jarring clash both soft and crude.
The thundering drum swells to crescendo,
Reverberations create a haunting memento
Of memories ensnared by life’s magic dance,
Beguiling minds with a shadowed glance.
Echoed beats grow soft and still,
For pain and suffering a touch to heal
The weary burden of life’s remorse,
Following the river’s meandering course.
The drum stops, no pounding rhythm to break the calm
Of whispered prayers captured in harmonic Psalm.
God shouts his approval of perseverance
Hidden by a fractured shell of endurance.
My heart was pounding, battering my search for sleep,
A rolling thunder of turmoil flowing from deep
Wells of fear and dark despair
That nurtured the beast in his hidden lair.
The rhythm slows, inviting peace;
My heart follows, fear drenched emotions cease
To fill my mind with electricity
That sparks chaotic multiplicity.
And so at last my soul finds rest,
In solitude I passed the test,
Administered by sovereign destiny,
God heard my cry and calmed the sea.
I hope you find joy and peace in your life,
Alan
PS: I'm going to post my poems on the RASUSHI forum site if you would like to read some of the old ones...in the lalternative therapy section...heh, it's therapy for me!
http://rashusi.jconserv.net/index.php
Oops...messed up the link...try, try again!
http://rasushi.jconserv.net/index.php
The sea rages with the anger rising.
I'm caught within its midst.
It is the song of survival, of pain.
The refrain is endless, aching, alone.
All my heart's wishes are cast off.
I see them in the distance.
Hear their calling out to me,
Separated by the gulf of boundaries.
I'm caught in a small boat.
The wave looms high and beats me down.
Water, cold, drowns my soul.
The aching chills my bones and crushes my flesh.
It's lonely here marooned, separate.
Crying for help, screaming until my voice is raw.
Acceptance is far from me and peace distant
Abandoned by the larger force.
Above me rises the darkening sky.
Rain drops like heavy darts
That shoot into my heart.
Yet here I find a solitude.
Even in my darkness, against my failing trust,
A voice surges within me.
Quiet, prevailing, it echoes a vibration.
It is there I find hope.
Alan,
This section in your poem was particularly striking and lovely. It felt like I have sometimes felt when dealing with my own arrhythmia. I read it and not only realized you know the particular terror moments of arrhythmia, you can reproduce the physical sensation in words. I don't know why this surprised me, but it did, and this is good (your poem snippet repeated here):
My heart was pounding, battering my search for sleep,
A rolling thunder of turmoil flowing from deep
Wells of fear and dark despair
That nurtured the beast in his hidden lair.
The rhythm slows, inviting peace;
My heart follows, fear drenched emotions cease
To fill my mind with electricity
That sparks chaotic multiplicity.
I'm glad you share your poems with us. Poetry is one of those islands of stillness and reflection that you and Deanna have talked about here, and it's so important.
And thanks for sharing the Emily Dickensen too. I have always loved "the thing with feathers" and I hadn't thought or run across that poem in forever.
Deanna,
Your poem is kind of scary real. It brings your pain and desolation right up into my room and reaching octopus fingers out to touch me with this line, then that one. And then it surprised me, though also it didn't, by also being about your unbelievable tenacity. I've never met anyone with a stronger will than yours, and it comes through in every single thing you write. Thank you for sharing this. It seems to be a night for touching deep places.