Distant Drums

         E'er I sleep,
         their drums return
         as smoke around one candle burns.
         Where ancient braves, once fierce and proud
         would dare to speak my name aloud.

         Would dare arrive
         in shadowed dress,
         to whisper light on dreams supressed;
         to hold above my restless bed,
         a tender truth, by promise led.

         As noble fathers
         round me chant
         in silence stirred by warrior dance,
         with touch so light, one blessing kept,
         shall there remain when sleep is left.

         Speaking then
         as only they
         could come across these mortal days.
         From miles ago, they will the same,
         to drum the night ~
         and speak my name.

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