I drum
beating the small snare with my power
I may be small
but I am the loudest in the band
the base is thunder crashing
the snare is the rain slamming to the earth
one cymbal is the lightning crashing
one is the waves of the beach
the triangle is the eerie calm before the storm
the timpani is the wind howling
the high hat is the sound of dripping water
tapping onto the ground
smash!
crash!
clash!
so many sounds
all
from
the
drum
I love the earth,
The trees,
The plants,
The life.
I love the earth,
The way the bugs buzz
The way the birds chirp,
The way the frogs croak.
I love the earth,
Willow's Well is a well that is said to grant wishes-at least, that's what the locals say. You can only make one wish though, and it's likely it'll never come true, for the Well is said to only ever grant a worthy wish.
Words drift by me, leading up to the great night sky. I watch them, all spiraling from an open book. The book has a sort of magic coming from it, an essence. I walk toward the book and hold out my hand above it. In my palm appears a word.
Comments
Love how you compare the different drums to different aspects of a storm. This is super weird, but it reminds me a little of some of the extended similes in homer which often have to do with storms --- and also break the storm up into different aspects.
Thanks! I really like using poems to express writing, and I though, hey, I play the snare. I could do a poem about percussion!
"Drumming Thunder" is this week's featured poem on vtdigger.org, up now in their Life & Culture section! You can check it out now, here! vtdigger.org/life-culture
Awesome!
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