What was this fearful rhythm?
The pounding of the drum
the clapping of hands
the stamping of feet
a clarion call
to dance
to battle
I know not which.

The irresistible fire of this tribal reunion
with the animals we have been
and the animals we remain,
this inescapable nature of our reality.

I think I am watching from beyond,
outside of the circle,
yet I am the center of attention
from both within
and without.