15 April, 2011

Flood Stage Rising

Up and down these days. Rain comes down,
river goes up, sand bags soaked in the sweat
and in brown river water. Grain elevators, basements,
railroad tracks, all succumb eventually. Up and down
these days, all days. I want to hibernate
listen to the wind howl against the roof shingles,
listen to the storm windows rattling
in a strange organic rhythm. The song is one
we have all heard before; rain against the windows,
against the siding, bouncing off the mail boxes
and against car windshields, creating tone,
measured sounds that, strung together
like the popcorn 'round grandma's old Christmas tree,
make measures, make songs. Songs waiting for words,
songs that need no words.

I want to hibernate and feel my heartbeat,
up and down these days, thumping in my ears
like great big giant timpani drums,
the sound of thunder in my chest
bouncing off my bones my heart, my liver,
my spleen, coiling 'round my small and large
intestines, rattling inside my skull –
creating music, music calling for words,
music that does not need my words,
the music that has reverberated for centuries
from the bones of children, whistled through leaves
ebbed and flowed through rocks in rivers –
rivers that flood because that is what rivers do.
It is what the river has done for eons.
It is what the river will do for eons more,
solar flares counting time different
the same way we count time different
than fruit flies... our fractured eyes
counting time in infinitesimal increments
little notes of larger music,
the music that mothers hum
when no one is paying attention
that fathers tap their feet to
when no one is paying attention
that daughters and sons sing
when no one is paying attention...

singing up and down, these and every day ever
and every day ever since
and every day we will not remember
because the sounds will find
new bones to reverberate against –
new railroad tracks, new windows,
new hearts, new livers, new spleens,
new brains to interpret, new skulls to augment.
Up and down these and all the days to come,
long after I am long beyond
long after I am down
and have no need to get up
and I am far beyond
my need to hibernate.