The Heartbeat of the Drum!
The ripples danced in random puddles under the slowing of the clouds,
Their swirls and curls they hang so heavy – like a multitude of shrouds!
An infinite view of painted greys – like a palette spread out across the sky,
The drifting rain it sails in the wind – as it gently falls before the eye!
With the weight of the sky the birdsong shelters – deep within the Trees,
Waiting out the weave of the early autumn – before the winter freeze!
Welcomed by the touch of a damped down carpet – the earth it greens a sigh,
The firmness of the ground confirms its craving – the roots are on a high!
In so short of time the sky it travelled – as the clouds began to clear,
Moving from the roundhouse to the Bardic Chair – the Robin did appear!
An all clear alarm confirmed in the east – a hop from branch to branch,
Like the crowing cock at the wake of morning – the ranger of the ranch!
Out with the Sun comes the call of the Buzzard – rising in the west,
Delivering a chorus to greet as a welcome – before he turns to rest!
A purposeful flypast from the west to the east – a Wood Pecker dipped in Green,
I’ve seen a pair dressed in their away strip here – but this is a first I’ve seen!
The moment is broken with a squawk of the Squirrel – the Willow to my left,
The Robin he broadcasts the way of his will – and it’s repeated in the west!
Feeling the need – he returns the attention – to the defiance down the path,
Another motion offered to my right from the Hawthorn – only goads his wrath!
Alerted by a commotion I avert my gaze – and the Willow comes to life,
It seems its playtime now for the Squirrel children – madly running rife!
With a flurry of twitching tails around the Tree – I count four to my surprise,
Another first for the Grove and its turning seasons – right before my eyes!
A Bee wanders by and checks me for flowers – with a buzz he comes to pass,
The rainfall is dispersing from the paths and the circle – Soaked up by the grass!
The pigeons fly the directions on their solo missions – The Crows pass pair by pair,
The wind subsides with a relaxing calm – with the cleansing of the air!
Company calls from the guardian of the Paviland Stone – leaving behind the storm,
An arrival with the grace of perfect timing as the Grove begins to warm!
The energy gathers as we build up in tents – with the gallery freshly mown,
In completion comes the welcome of the Gate Keeper – one and all are known!
A raincloud intervenes and we bide our time – filling in the flow of dates,
A casual relax – with the relief of the picnic tables – patience calmly waits!
With the passing of the rain preparation is completed – the dressing in the round,
The pages are turned and knowledge is learned – a connection with the ground!
The heartbeat of the drum – approaching the circle – a connection with the Grove,
A collective bond with an understanding – where the threads of life are wove!
We find our places as we toast with mead – the amber of the Sun,
We share the past – the present – into the future – the Unity of one!
As Ceremony closes – the fading of light – the Barn Owl wanders through the eve,
He hovers in the south at the meeting of the fields – before he takes his leave!
Marking of the moment with the roundhouse fire – a new precedence is set,
A flame to warm the cold of the inner circle – with the starlight we are met!
The Drummer offers up a range of moods – with the heartbeat of the Drum,
Moon rises through the Trees like a shining beacon – the moonlight has become!
The fire builds and the embers glow – sat blowing smoke rings with the air!
The chill of the night it creeps in the darkness – with condensation everywhere!
Once more the drummer – picks up the heartbeat and a distant Owl it calls,
An approaching cry placed off in the north – a sound no sight recalls!
The warming gives the gift of sustenance – as we huddle around the fire,
With a warming meal to seal the deal – as Owls they form a choir!
A multitude of different calls and answers – in a multitude of tongues,
All the directions seem represented – as random as it comes!
The night sky is studied while clear as a bell – as far as the eye can see,
The fire dies down with the gathered retiring – finishing with me!
Morning is addressed with tales of encroachment – the drawing of the mist,
Engulfing the view from out of the north – we are powerless to resist!
Setting the scene and masking horizons – we withdraw on through the gate,
A bond of contentment wrapped up in a shiver – following our fate!