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Drumming On The Hill

Drumming on the hill, Big Lake in clear view
elicits the child within
to come out and play,
to frolic to the rhythmic beat in this summer’s
sweet hour,
the water’s distant glistening and
the sun’s heat, warming us to each other
so led by the light to see, here and there,
and again,
first tentatively and then wholly,
a new sister or spiritual brother,
to rend
our many hearts into one
as we shift from drum to voice,
the beat softer now,
singing out our mutual praise
uplifted to match the angel’s joyous intent.
Suddenly we know, all twenty-two,
what the heavens already knew,
this hill is a sacred hill, drumming and singing
it’s way to love’s lively home.

 

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