TheBanyanTree: Thonotosassa Night

[B Drummond]

few things move me like the moon rising in an aparition's slow dance in 
the mist over the ocean or scents of melaleuca and sabal palm drifting 
in the night air over the canal

or the low groan of a bullfrog echoing over the lilypads, or the wild 
thrashing from the shoreline sawgrass as a bass of ungodly size chases 
hapless baitfish into oblivion

when nightbirds shreik and small frogs peep and cicadas buzz like high 
tension powerlines overhead, when they send my mind reeling, their 
constancy drumming the subconscious free into frightening figures 
dancing around a campfire of glowing coals

when the summer air is thick with winged things that light and buzz and 
brush by; sometimes stinging, always on the move in a swirling insect 
whirlpool around me

when I feel each rhythm, until no sounds evoke fear, and move with those 
rhytmns until I feel that I am a part of it all

when I stay until I'm not a just another visitor come to observe but 
until I am another creature adding yet another rhythm to a Thonotosassa 
night




    bd
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