A Whirring Sound Poem

A Whirring Sound

There is a whirring within my chest.

Consistent, constant, beneath my breast.

Not to low, somewhat high,

beneath my chin, behind my tie.

My wonder wanders about this thing.

Is it glued or tied with string?

Does it rest in the heat of day

or persevere come what may?

I think I know, the answer true

Just what it is, that I?ll tell you.

It has given me many a day

and because of this, I can say.

There is a whirring within my chest.

Consistent, constant, beneath my breast.

Because of this, the sun does rise

and there?s still a sparkle in my eyes.

I hear birds chirping, my heart is warm

and living on is a norm.

There is still a song within my heart.

Or is it in that whirring part?

Steve Woodward, LVAD recipient

Princeton, Kentucky

A poem by my father who received a LVAD in February of 2013.