Ceremonial Drums

Searching for the finale
Forgetting I am right here
To end all hate
To start all things called love
All in the package of our sun
Sublime as the wind blows
In the car, music pumping
Engine roaring, never crashing
Speeding ahead of late traffic
Summer drink, filling bottles
A glass of peace, a twist of orange
Climbing these patchy mountains
Painful they might be, but I rather care not
For the fall was tiring, so to the top I climb
Not to the ends of luxury, but to the top of my whole
To find my voice, once buried
Now found in the bill of my words
Going, revving, switching the gear
As the windows receives heat
A moment to grab rock and push on
Up to those stairs of an infinity called peace


  1. Theresa says:

    “…to the top of my whole – To find my voice, once buried…” I continue to love your words, which bring forth powerful images. Thank you.

    1. Thanks for reading, and more thanks for placing your comments. Gladly valued.

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