Presence - Arts That Inspire Reflection & Prayerনমুনা

Heartbeat

I heard his heartbeat. A child held tight in Father's loving arms, Knowing safety, Shielded from the storms. In the closeness the beat was unmistakable. The beat was dependable.

I heard his heartbeat. Stepping out in faith and hope, Dreams soaring, Growing in the rhythm I knew so well. In the walking the beat was steady. The beat was strong.

I thought I heard his heartbeat. I knew my Father, Walked with him, Re-telling the stories from my youth. In my remembering the beat was unchanging. The beat was predictable. Fading. Dull?

Did I hear his heartbeat? Was that the beat I knew? It skipped a beat. Pulsating patterns, Unpredictable. Untamed. This is not the beat of a marching drum. I cannot assume routine within the rhythm. I must stop and listen, Breath held, Heart pounding.

I have heard his heartbeat. And it now dares me to dance.

He Dares me To dance to his heartbeat.

So together we will dance. Ballerina-like with powerful precision, Each step guided with easy grace. Until I dance with freedom. Movements flowing like ribbons caught by the wind. Ripping across the calm waters. Cartwheeling, Like a gymnast moving corner to corner across the mat, But I will not stop there, God is not be confined by the boundaries set by man. I will dance my dreams again. Spread my wings, and fly, moved by the wind, carried over the waves.

This is his heartbeat. This our dance. Ever constant. Ever changing.

Written By Tracy Ingham

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