He carries the crafted trunks of trees and skins of animals
loading them adeptly in his gold chariot
and off he flies
The bearer of rhythm
He is of a long line of master teachers
whose drums turn
on their side and roll after them down ancient
pillared streets in
the dreams of men
The untrained ear may not consciously perceive the precision
with which he inserts each strike
Gun , Go Do , Pa Ta
He sculpts the rhythmic landscape
scanning the circle for eyes
and their gleaming windows into resonant caverns of the soul
He entrains tensions
detangles egos
and binds disparate views in pulsar orientation
The power of hand, intention, vibration, muscle, wood and skin
The dancers begin to tap their toes at the edge
Their hips move…sway
shoulders open as they step into the circle
Small Burdens 