Metronome

Rising and falling
risen
fallen
silence and calling
free fall
and suspension
are the rhythms
of my muse.

I ride the pendulum
from horizon to horizon
like a razor I cry
like a prow maiden
gulping froth
from dusk to dawn
vacillating in my arc
till kingdom come.

Repeating
Da capo
The futility of expectation
of the emergence
of a coda
of going home
and resignation
to the metronome.

Rising and falling
risen
fallen
silence and calling
free fall
and suspension
are the rhythms
of my muse.