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| The Drums Beating by � cherokee_thorn The soft beat of the drum became order among pipe smoke. Softly It beat, and beat. Elders words of wisdom passed among the lot. Pine scent filled the air of cedar bark cuttings. And the drum beat. Curing hides cast sunset shadows on my hut. Barked visitors stood their ground. As the drum beat. Behind a wall of snarls kept bay the intruders. Harsh command lay their obedience aside. Where the drum beat. A tribal Chief entered the circled mass. Peyote cast it's visionary shapes on my mind. While the drum beat. My father rose in my eyes reflection. Drums soft thud brought morning. When the drum beat. Funeral pyres coal red died with him. My wife's warm hand brought me home. The drum was silent. My sons tear stains sent me back again. And the drum beat. Cherokee_Thorn � 2002 |