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