The
distant drumbeat of another drummer
A
long way off I heard it . . .
A
thing which could not possibly be
Wandering
along the wet and winding road
The
steady beat of some little drum . . .
Stopping
to listen, wondering where it was
Then
slowly walking forward towards
The
loud but tiny sound, which was quite
Magical
to me, I felt the lightness shiver
Safe,
settled, within my inner world
I
heard and saw the things we seldom see
And
sent to care and search I found
The
cause of that which had been drawing me
Nothing
but an empty small black can of drink
Beneath
a dripping roof --- and yet it made
This
penetrating sound that spoke of Love’s own
Heartbeat
and the ceaseless drops of love upon
A
useless, broken, empty vessel, lying in a drain
*
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