To the drums
It turns therefore - like now to live. The NOW now capitalized.
So that the therefore it changes.
The premises of being? Fundamentally flowing!
The sound of the things!
Archetype of sound in the silence...
Still one of too many goals.
All places ever desired shown in the mirror
Existence! Thousand times in the round dance of our earth. Here and there.
Searching the knowledge in devotion to life.
Again, again. Everything’s behind me.
Only fragments of the wanted still aware in myself.
I want to build a drum.
Clay of the overcoming of all agony.
Sound of my being. Existence.
The drum will hold me.
Search is what I will do.
Exploring the shades of bright rocks. The light play of dawn.
The island receives with musty, damp woman warmth.
I feel secure in my loose nature, the thoughts in that head of mine.
Nevertheless however comforted and coated in the convenient friendliness of the universe. I can feel it, here with me.
The wind carries me to the sea, smiling welcome.
Drunken by the sparkling of all the universes in the moon light-sand, created I by night and dream, breathes the proximity of Africa, listen to the lions deep in my heart, smelling that harsh fragrance of antelopes.
I want to build a drum. To let hear sounds in the nowhere.
Understanding does the infinity.
The green forest of the mountains calls, - I follow, into warm light, into the embrace of the alive ones, arose for nature from that asterisk-deaf.
The tree, which tells me to be the corpus, sounds sweet in the stifling forest. Completely unconscious. Like floating I am dancing through yield sponge, fern in the forest.
The wood gives itself, rigid breathing, can be shaped to forms in itself, consciously, - it becomes the carrier of sweet sound. My doing as a human being leaves many more than notion in the trunk; it will be, like wood becomes only rare, from now on, so it only would like, the deliverer of earthy sounds, the tender breath of the eternity.
But also a rabbit gives itself with whole body and soul, suspects only quietly, that its tender body covering clears the tone to the embrace of nature forces.
Its skin will tremble, will vibrate with the old wood to tell, to celebrate this praise singing to all life here: “Mother earth loves you, without questions.”
A drum I want to build.