Just be still.
Just lie there.
Think of nothing.
Ignore the thumping of the earth,
Tune out the cries of my history.
Calm the pounding that courses through my bones.
Sent from where?
Why must I hear songs from people long turned to dust?
How do I reign the prescription for peace, quiet?
No, there is no still.
The thumping keeps time with my heart.
The songs tell me how to get through this place,
how to find the light, the clear waters.
There’s no time for peace, no use for quiet.
I will have time to lie still when I have left my skin and bones behind.