A Thousand Drums
Sometimes, In the silence, very faintly
I hear the sound of a thousand drums.
As the rumble brews I remember;
the smell of the plains when it rains and the sun
Reaffirms his place in humbled sky –
making the supple grasses glitter in his rays,
The sound of crickets in the darkness,
singing to the jittering fireflies as the day
Slowly slumbers, the warmth of the fire
as it’s flames fly among the crackling piles,
The soft red earth – still harboring day –
calling out to all who hear…
‘dance’.
But the wind awakes me.
Saddened I cry out onto the concrete,
wailing as the sounds fade.
“oh fastidious time,
Tread softly,
For it is upon a dream you walk”.
© Denis Adide 2011
It's Complicated 