Spirit Drum


The drum resounding
in my mother’s womb
reminded me to breathe in
spirit,
whistle the lost chords tune;
to live a noble way
and never hide myself
far from beauty.

Almond blossom lays twisted
and sated,
In tacit compliance with the sky.
What a relief to sit and ponder
The fluency of the river.

Falling in eternal circles,
the wind on my broken skin,
the fullness of serene nature.

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