The rhythm of light rain on the skylight wakens me, and as I shift in bed, Trooper's tail takes up a rhythm matching the sound of the rain. Distant thunder from the approaching storm rhythmically rolls, and Trooper's tail picks up speed. He hates thunder and knows that if he beats the drum I call my bed, I will become fully awake and reassure him that he will be safe.
I drive to another job interview, and as I listen to the rhythm of the road under my tires, I am grateful for the friends who helped me get a new alternator installed. While the rhythm of my walk to my summer part-time job gave me time to listen to the rhythm of sounds around me and think of all that has changed the rhythm of my life ... my aching joints told me that it would not be a rhythm I could keep up for long. The rhythm of friendships come to mind ~ the safe trust in the give and take, knowing that even if the roles were reversed, the rhythm would be the same.
Home again, I listen to the rhythm of music filling my house. I think of you, how we used to kitchen dance to the rhythm of Santana. I long to hear the rhythm of your steps on the stairs, the rhythm of your heartbeat and breathing, and to know that you are safe.
Without you, there is no rhythm to my life.
|Five Minute Friday|