Rhythm

by Christopher Hanson

Rhythm,

Rhythm?

Rhythm.

Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm, Rhythm

RhythmRhythmRhythmRhythmRhythmRhythmRhythm

Rhythm

Have you ever said a word so many times that it stops sounding like a word and it just sounds like rhythm?

I think it’s because words are used for so much more than just the meaning that they’re meant for.

You see, words can be verbs, adverbs, adjectives, and nouns

They’re made up of morphemes and phonemes – in other words, the individual sounds

And yet they’re used primarily for their meaning – the crown jewel of their existence

even though their meaning changes depending on contextual difference –

It’s incredible to me to think

That our whole language, our heart beat, the very fibre of our being –

The rumble of the earth and the vibration of each Star we see gleaming

Every beat we breathe or think or speak is made up of rhythm

You see, I think it’s because whether “divine creation” be true or false,

There is rhythm in the symphony to which the first atoms waltzed

And when they drew near to kiss,

the universe went like this:

KABOOM

and rhythm zoomed to carve the Earthy into existence

See, Rhythm carved the rivers out of withered rock and tree

Rhythm shook the mountains and rippled through the sea

And rhythm filled the tiny babe as his heart began to beat: boom-boom, boom-boom

And as that child grew, he knew just what to do,

He used the rhythm within him to build and very soon

that man began to understand

all he can

through

Rhythm

See, he could

Build a kingdom with it

WOo women with it

Win wars with it

Change minds with it

Praise with it, Daze with it,

Unfaze and amaze with it

He could conquer kingdoms with a careful character if he stays with it

If we stay with it.

And so, We did.

’cause I’m backing up to Illiads and Oddyseys across all these atrocities

and watching each character carefully keep their rhythm

See because rhythm transcended past words on a page

or the voice on a stage

to fill the heart of every person.

It cares not for gender or race or religion.

This place is about to understand the power of rhythm!

You see, we are sitting amongst a great cloud of witnessess who can testify quite vehemenetly the might

the soft and subtle

the meek might of rhythm

For like the beating of a heart: boom-boom

() Shakespeare found that rhythm () () () ()

And his plays amazed and dazed and made

people think

He painted tears and sunsets and anger and relief

all with just a pen and some ink

And when the globe caught fire with a rhythm that inspired a generation – a whole damnnation

That ink spilled and filled the quill

which wrote with a love that was more than love

Immortalizing the tragedy of anabellelee

And the rhythm which beat in the heart that broke

Filled many quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore

And though his soul never flitting still is sitting, STILL is sitting –

he shall be forgotten NEVERMORE

Satisfied, a patient raven left its perch upon the pallid bust of Pallas and flew

through

time and space to carry that rhythm to

someone new

Thou you may be

owing old*

of my preaching

I have a dream

where one day

when two roads diverge in a forest

we will take the one less traveled

and be the good we wish to see

Because I’m up here with my

Palms sweaty, knees weak

And I feel flike I have to hollar just to be heard even though with every word I drop knowledge

Because the fact of the matter is that rhythm is exactly what defines us.

It unites us.

It unifies us.

Because through that rhythm I can hear the scrape of chains on pavements as ghostly choirs sing

Swing low sweet chariot

And I’m up in arms about that fact that I can hear chambers filling with gas

I can hear the lack of pitter patter of little feet in our schools

I can hear the names on repeat of countless people who all keep losing their rhythm

I can hear the silence

of protersters on Washington

and the silence of politicians and public alike not talking about any of this

If I have learned anything about rhythm it is that it is a sequence of sounds and silences

and my friends we have been silent for too long.

See that strange sweet rhythm doesn’t just fill the hearts of

Shakespeare and Robert Frost and Henry David Thoreau

Or Lin Man and Eminem and Edgar Allen Poe

It doesn’t just fill the rumble of the earth or the Stars that were birthed so long ago

That rhythm fills every soul screaming, and every bruise bleeding

and every heart here that is beating

So whether your rhythm fill words like nouns and verbs, or music, or ink or voice or sermons or dances or paint or charcoal or oil or

the silence of a listening ear

the draping of a coat across cold shoulders

or the action like the scratching of keys in chains to release those suffering from their pains

or simply the rubber in the soles of your shoes

You have the obligation,

the station,

no the duty

to ensure that you and every other person has the opportunity to find and to share

their

Rhythm.