The room, faintly lit by a single candle
and the half-light of a rainy afternoon
easing through windows,
is silent, is still.
I sit, eyes closed,
in my spot in the circle,
among the others likewise waiting,
poised ready like darkness
in the moments before sunset.
Waiting for the drum beat to come,
waiting for the power to come.
My heart beats fast and hard in my chest,
swelling and searing, sounding loudly in my ears.
I tremble like one awaiting
a new lover's touch.
And the drums are struck.
Five in unison, bellowing,
reverberating off the walls, the ceiling.
One beat.
Then silence.
Quiet but for the popping of the fire.
Seconds drag. Trembling turns to shaking.
Breath catches, suspended between exhale and inhale
clinging to dying vibrations,
aching for more.
The drums are struck again with precision
coming from beyond the drummers,
drumming and stepping around the room,
tools of the spirits.
I hear a voice singing a few notes of melody
far off--slowly, softly.
It grows louder, more demanding, and closer
until I realize it is not outside of me at all.
Within me the song gathers large
as it climbs up my spine,
through my ribs and into my throat
where it aches to spill like liquid flames
over my tongue and lips.
Compelled to my feet,
the drummers envelop me.
The sweet song bursts forth like water breaking a levee,
released and flowing freely under its own desire.
I do not recognize my own voice.
The song resonates;
the drummers join my singing, handing me a rattle.
Drunk on the drum,
high on the song,
I grasp the rattle lovingly and begin my dance.
Rattling and singing,
I spin circles within circles
feet pounding the floor, skirt twisting around my ankles,
body weaving around the room.
The drummers chase after me,
pushing me on with their
relentless pounding.
Self abdicates, and power
takes over, dancing me.
Whirling without bearings,
I am freed of the room,
released from myself.
In radiant light,
I merge; I become,
until,
in jubilation,
I collapse crying
onto my blanket.
All poems copyrighted by the author, Tracey Besmark 1997©