Your heart – a red drum.
Taut leather bound
to the infinite shape of a circle,
seeks the music of other beating hearts.
Sound changes,
when a strong wind blows,
when the leather is rain-soaked,
when the sun makes the circle
jump into the light.
“I made this,”
says the drum.
Dreams take shape in the air,
with each, bellowing note.
“Now change it by living,”
says the drum’s stick.
Sing a new song.
“Truth –
Of thee I sing.”
Many more layers of change
bring syncopated rhythms,
ballads of longing,
and newly discovered voices.
Your heart is a red drum –
now crimson with passion,
tomorrow the sun makes it pink –
a tender, summer rose.
Sing your transformation to the world.
Beat the drum.
Beat the drum.
Beat the drum.
