The ‘Ol Fisike (What we used to call “Physics” when our ancestors were younger)

 

When I was younger

I had a teacher

(of Physics)

Who

Was also my youth pastor

& he’d hit me

With a ruler

Sometimes.

He didn’t want to appear

To play favorites.

It hurt (my

Hands 

As much as my feelings.)

But I don't even remember

His name

Today.

Whereas I learned in his class

About the power of

Pendulums, which

Make

Waves, signs, sines, sine waves,

Perfectly symmetrical,

Curving Patterns,

Waves

That are the same

As radio waves,

& colors of the

Rainbow

Though on another frequency.

They silently swing

Back & Forth

Beautifully

Endlessly dancing like the

Twirl of the tire swing 

Hung from the

Tree

In my neighbor's yard, and

In my grandmother’s

Clock, the metronome 

Keeping 

Time, sounding the hours

Tick-tocking the seconds

Gone (now)

Forever.

And I’m weeping now

With relief, to know

That I’ve finally

Healed.

No more rift with my childhood,

I've learned to

Love without 

Shame.

I love the dance, up-down,

And the swing, back-

And-forth, for 

It lasts

Forever and a day,

& it balances

Our very

Selves

Atop endless movement, perfec-

tionism never the goal,

Nor fixed

Opinions.

We keep looking, rather,

Seeking peace amidst the

Chaos of our 

Minds…

Hopping from one height

To another, sliding

Down to the

Trough,

Climbing up, and up we skip on

Sine waves, remembering

How oscillations 

Measure

 

Pendulum Motion. The harmonics
We might achieve if we

Found frequencies

To heal

With time, like the waves

Of the ocean, the tides

Of our minds, the

Swings

In our moods, the memories 

Of our childhoods,

Rewritten with 

(New) Truths

Of our life before knowing

The troubles and

Pains, emotions

& Physics,

Assuring us we need not know

The science. For the

Movement itself is

The healing.