10700
Congos
Indian drums
Circular rhythm in the air
Beats collide
Upon the grass fields
Dancers shake
and rise
Their minds floating
Like parasailers in the sky
No fuel
the wind and rhythm
their supply
Their
Consciousness
Drifts
High in the sky
While
Beneath their feet
Ancestors
And the truth
Tramples age old lies
Fearless creatures
Of yesterday
Lie beneath wretched wrecked tombstones
Crumbling Into the dirt
As those upon whom
blessed life and birth were given
blood is passed on
eternal worth
Some fearing fate yet
The fearful fear
only awaiting is terrible surprise
Fearful of their mother earth
And Nature
spooked
of the day of their haunted demise
Still the faith
Remains in the gentle hands
Of the Gods
Resting in the day
And shining through the stars’ light
Strong hearts race in the drum rhythm
As the winds in the sky
Wipe away fear
And memories of the untold
And unsacred lies
While the Congos resound
Echoing a tribal jungle night
Drums roll and hum
the beat goes on
under a lucid twilight
giving way to a piercing sky lit night
fires burning on the earth and in the skies
reflecting
every yesternight
and
As Storms come to pass
The sun and stars
Remain
Always out of reach
From within seas of moonlight
From the mountains to the beach
the beat goes on and on
Flowing like the rivers
And endless waterfalls
That we all seek
Bumping and Grinding
to
Ancient everlasting beats
