Tribal Beats

Autumn snazzy show is fizzling out. Flaxen leaves dangling for just a twinkle longer before the dramatic winter spectacle begins to unfold. Longer shadows will creep into the scene, slant light will reveal the stark contrast as the year ends. Down here, we find some breathing room in this moody playroom. Down here, baby bear feels the urge to bang on these drums. Impulsive, pulsing beats to ward off these intense events enveloped with an avalanche of overreaches. A flush of rose brightens her ashen cheeks as her rhythm picks up in the advancing winter dormancy. The beat of my heart soon synchronizes to her tempo. I swear in the days still left, this little being arises to sustain hope, belief, and enough spirit to elevate even those still too downhearted to rouse from their dream spell. I’m already looking forward to a fruitful spring of an abundance of fresh and enhanced directions for our life together.

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