DEAR DRUMS
A poem from TORY ELENA 
Nov 27th, 2013

ear Drums,

You remind me I am Queen every time I take that throne. 
You force me to own my vulnerability - 
to strip down the layers and get naked with the beat. 
The only way into your pocket - 
is with patient persistence. 
The only way into your heart
is through attentive ears, 
that honor not only the sound... 
but the silence between. 

Sometimes I just sit there,
in awe at the potential. 
We are both teacher and student -
and tell stories together. 

Every sound that lies within you, lies within me. 
I paint your dreams with my sticks, my hands.
You were born of trees. 
You were cut, shaped and sanded smooth. 
Metal lugs were formed through fire to hold your form.
You run through my nerves, my spine, my marrow.
Your presence is undeniable.
Your medicine is strong.
I drink fully and deeply
from your eternal well.

When I am taken by sadness and rage,
you listen to me speak my pain.
You watch me split at the seems.
Then you sew me up with light.
You show me strength through grace.
You are a patient container -
Yet a firm reminder of true resilience.

For your skin has been stretched and tighten. 
Beaten raw until you crack.
Fixed until you are broken.
Yet the truth of your song remains.

For you know the origin of love.
The sustained unwavering breath from which all is possible.

Deep Gratitude yo,
Deep.

Tory Elena

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