Drummer's Hand Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Takes out of the raw hide
stretched in by a leather pull
some hollow echo from the first sleep,
between the awakening and when the day
is yours. It makes you step, twice forward
and every surrounding gyrates. The while
an intelligent forgetfulness, an occupation with
pristine counterpoint, ascending turns.
Awhile the blood rushes to head
and dust is washed from the face.
The poetic rhythm of beats, repeating itself
the farther the sound, the sweeter it sounds.

Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
May 3,2014.

Tribal Dance by Mussa Chiwaula @ fineartamerica