The Rhythms of Pain

Hello again, my morning pain.

You come to me again, the same,

because awake, my muscles screaming

don’t allow for much more sleeping.

I’d rather wake and change my thoughts,

if I can,

within the pounding pain

In restless pain I stand and dance.

Move my muscles for a chance

the aches will ebb and go away.

Give me strength just for today

because my hip is stabbed by

grinding tips of bone on bone

that steal the night when I’m alone,

touched by the rhythms of pain.

But in the home I see

a dozen people just like me.

People talking without complaining,

people aching without retreating,

people showing me how to be

and not give in

to the plaguing pain.

In their faces, I see

I do not dance alone.

With others, I forget

the things I most regret,

and learn to live above the plain.

Continue dancing in the rain,

accompanied by pain.

Author note: "the home" refers to the nursing home where I live.