Up, down. Up, down,
go his feet as he pedals,
pedalling round.
Gently rotating, circulating,
the children merrily going,
children on the merry-go-round,
as it’s stopping, slowly,
slowing down.
Left, right. Left, right,
the shoppers shopping in the street
making rhythms with their feet.
To, fro. To, fro,
swinging arms with shopping
as they come
and then they go.
In, out. In, out,
the pigeon’s head
as he proudly struts about.
Waggle. Waggle,
tongues are flapping, telling,
telling what they think they know.
Ba, boom. Ba, boom,
beats the heart of the jogger
as he jogs past very fast.
Flutter. Flutter,
the eyelashes
of the lovers,
as they sit,
so close together,
staring sweetly,
at each other.
All the while the Earth
It’s turning, spinning.
Stars are twinkling,
spirals in the heavens forming.
All these movements
music making,
in the stillness of your presence.
All these rhythms
from your essence.
All these actions
simply stating
your existence is
what’s existing,
through the unity
of all these rhythms
which we often take to be,
something which belongs to me.
David Taylor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/high-street-rhythms/
