Photo Credit: Pixabay.com
Ode to the Talking Drum
Fair instrument of melody,
I salute the mind you possess,
keeping dance in your custody,
and your own notions you express
separately, among peers in Ayangalu’s hands.
Mighty are the rhythms you’ve got,
conveyed beyond a thousand mile;
you are cousin to the parrot,
and much more for your brilliant style:
revealed in what your cord and your string can do.
Herald angel of Music’s Muse,
also mouthpiece for all events;
few are the genres you can’t use,
since you’ve mimed Rock Music’s comments:
now I know why all cultures and music are one.
The one drum that can stand alone,
two drumheads that have never failed,
squeezed in my arms changes your tone,
awesome message relayed when played:
while each part tapped produces a different sound.
Interlocking rhythms revealed
through fingers, palms, or curved drum stick;
the cause to rejoice isn’t…