Hands clapping
softly, rhythmically,
twirling and dancing,
round and round.
There’s a thumping coming from the earth
beneath our feet—
moving up through our bodies,
one beat at a time,
through our veins—
an ancient, rhythmic pulse of life
to every cell,
never stopping.
Round and round the cycle goes.
The night jungle hums with a breath all its own.
Crickets trill,
frogs bellow,
leaves rustle with unseen footsteps.
Distant whoops, chirps, and whistles rise—
waves crashing in the far-off distance,
over and over.
The moon lighting our way
in the gentle darkness
as we move—
here and there
round and round,
surrendering to the night,
to nature and the senses.
