Elk Drum Called Me

Elk drum called me, 

From inside her canvas cave.

I swear the bag wiggled a smile.

Of canyons, and valleys, and mountain streams,

With beams of sunlight illuminating the mist

That’s been kissed by the leaves.

“Come,” she cooed. 

How could I resist?

I opened my pack 

And lifted her out,

Giving her a kiss 

With my poem sprouting lips,

That melt hearts and pull tears

From painful years, long ago.

My fingers swirl around the mallet’s handle, 

My hand caresses her leather straps. 

I nod to my drum. 

We are ready to fly.

My mallet awakens her belly

With a light tap and then ratatatat

I am out,

No longer bound 

By the confines of my golden brown skin.

We glide out my window

And bow to the Guava tree.

She giggles open her entrance 

To the path down her roots

Of silk, musty mushrooms, and 

Iridescent crystals of jade and amethyst.

The drums ratatat boom boom booms

Me into a cave with a passageway 

Of yellow and red rose petal waterfalls.

I slide down the chute into a pool 

Of laughing dolphins telling jokes

To the Coyote and grandmother on the bank.

“Sit here,” Coyote howls, “And listen 

To the wisdom of our ancestors,

Relish in their uproarious  laughter,

Eat the guava blossoms of mystery,

Drink from the pond of delight,

Glow with the splash of sparkles,

“Sientanse aqui,” Grandmother beacons,

Patting the green moss on the bench,

I sit down leaning my body against her

Laying my head on her bosom.

Like I did when I was seven years old.

The boom boom boom is gone.

My drum takes a nap on my lap.

We all dream together 

As we fly up, up, and up,

Passed the grinning moon, and laughing sun,

Passed the stars, and planets,

Passed the galaxies, and through a fog,

And onto the top of a ziggurat pyramid,

Where Quetzalquoatl, dressed in a robe

Of stars and flowers, greets me to say,

“Welcome my brother,

I have missed you so much.

When will you stop pretending

That you are not powerful and beautiful too?

It’s time to accept the truth of the mystery 

That you can sing songs of magic,

Twirl worlds with your pen

To soothe a crying world

And make it love and laugh again.”