Rhythmic Life

Did you ever think that life is just a compelling rhythm? One that slows down, speeds up, but never stops until death. And even then it might just change?

Just seems to me that most of life is just trying to find one's own rhythm, and where one's own rhythm fits in. Like trying to decide majors in college. Maybe you think that you have a feel for Math, but it turns out that you're really much better at English, and enjoy it more. Or in sports for instance. On hears about being "In the Zone". A compelling situation where everything seems to be going your way. This zone can go forth into one's own non-competitive life also. Like finding one's own rhythm with a loved one. Finding out when to push or pull or when to just step back.

This is one of the reasons I think that so many people are addicted to music. Me included. Enjoying the different tone shifts and rhythm splices. All the things that make up life in the notes of a song. The horror, the joy and the bliss. All of it included.

If then all these things are true, why doesn't poetry have a voice in modern America. Poetry has a particular rhythm and is much more compelling, in my opinion, than many things out on the radio now. My own personal take on this facet is that most Americans are used to having everything spelled out for them. Like (I don't mean to offend anyone) Pop music nowadays. Most of it has a beat that is practically given verbatim. There is no personal interpretation on anything. Just the way that some producer in a recording studio has manipulated beats and tunes and the like.

A slumber did my spirit seal
I had no human fears
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of Earthly years

No motion has she now
No force, she neither hears nor sees
Rolled round in Earth's diurnal course
With rocks and stones and trees

William Wordsworth

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