The walls of the vessels grow hyper tense.
The silent throbbing black hole of the soul
Swaths the mercury dial. It is well on its way
To telling me how much I value today.
It is just a device yet it does play its role
In keeping me poised and akin to suspense.
The med does some good; in fact, it works well.
No side effects noted. That’s on the one hand.
On the other, ‘no telling how that ‘pril’ does its doing.
It may well interfere with my walking and chewing.
I’ll test out the theory, then well understand
That therein is where my illusion does dwell.
No condition exists where the body can’t grow
Into fuller awareness of what it has asked
In alignment with that which we humans call God.
Wellbeing is normal; what is not is what’s odd.
That Force that it knows cannot be over tasked.
Toward alternate therapy, Sphygmomano!