Rhythm

Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm.

Feet on pavement, bike-chains clicking.

Rushing.  Can’t be late.  Didn’t leave early.

Senseless noise.

Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm.

Chattering in a hollow room, chairs screeching across the floor.

Silence.  A single voice in front.  People position themselves in their chairs.

Does this make sense?

Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm.

Alarms shrill, blankets rustle.

Closing door, Squeaky faucets opening.

Do we mean this?

Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm.

Always on our way, places we must go.

Sitting, Standing, Opening, Closing, Noise, and Silence.

Is this all we are?