Drums

.

Deep in the folds

of the flannel of night

we hear the drums call –

.

     ba ba boom.

.

Our eyes open wide

as we chew through the shackles

and dance ourselves free –

.

      ba ba boom.

.

Up the spiral we climb,

our candles held high

to shatter the gloom –

.

     ba ba boom.

.

At the top we leap clear

of gravity’s hold

on the weight of our words –

.

     ba ba boom.

.

We land on the sun

where we tear off our masks

and meet our true Selves –

.

      Ba Ba Boom, Ba Ba Boom!

.

.

(c)  1993, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post, revised…. written in 1993)