A rhythmic, steady

beating on the roof,

an ancient tribal ritual

he’d heard before,

drumming into his soul

calming the restless spirit

for the moment,

a peacefulness

of the moment,

that was new (or long forgotten)

As the rain came.

 

The drumming continued

pulsating endlessly,

barely containing the restless spirit –

The world lay still,

as memories drifted by

insignificant,

to the beauty he knew,

insignificant,

to that place in time,

that was new (not soon forgotten)

As the rain came.

 

A rhythmic, steady

beating on the roof,

an ancient tribal ritual

he’d heard before,

Rhythm and beauty sharing

the soul of the restless spirit,

returning the joy,

a peacefulness,

returning the joy,

that was new (not soon forgotten)

As the rain came.

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