1/4 vs. 1/8

Lately there’s been two drummers in my chest,
One plays quarter notes four, the other eight no rest.
Battling eachother for supreme, for title of the best,
Playing over one another, but for neither I attest.

The quarter note drummer plays a longer set. He puts me to sleep and rises me out of bed. He bangs through routine, over subways, and under breath. His beat is multilingual, causes me to pause and reflect. So reliable and constant, that even my forgetfulness, He forgives and forgets.

Lately there’s been two drummers in my chest,
One plays quarter notes four, the other eight no rest.
Battling eachother for supreme, with power my heart they wrest,
Playing over one another, but for neither I attest.

The eighth note drummer likes to take over rebellious. He makes the blood pump hard, the other organs I neglect. Dancing, screaming, pounding, twirling in the throws of flesh, no time to think, just do, in a manner tumultuous. Sometimes there’s a rhythm, sometimes He smiles unscripted. Try to catch me breath, but when He takes over, there’s no fighting Him, its useless.

Lately there’s been two drummers in my chest,
One plays quarter notes four, the other eight no rest.
Battling eachother for supreme, sending me closer to cardiac arrest,
Playing over one another, but for neither I attest.

Lately there’s been two drummers pounding in her chest, but they drum side by side, near eachother, always together, abreast. The eighth may be young, rash, and spontaneous, but even He knows He could not, would not exist if not for the quarter’s resilience. Even while the eighth bangs on, the quarter moniters, using His temperance. The drummers laugh knowing those that recognize all is from One, know all is the same regardless. Two drummers, Two beats, One heart, One sense.