Ritual of Awakening



The drums are beating in the night,

Thick with the magic of slaves.

Beneath the twinkling eyes of the Universe,

The ancestors dance between the flames.

The rhythm, a language I knew

So, so long ago.

It did not abandon me.

It drives me mad,

Beating my heart wildly.

Clearing the webs of deception,

Breaking the chains of my mind.

The moon rises, trembling,

To meet the waters,

Agitated in kind.

The ancestors,

They slip between sight and sound,

Tip toeing through my dreams,

Hallowing the ground.

The rhythm rumbles through,

Vibrating the air.

The fire is lit.

The soul burns.

Mysteries shrouding the Eye

That sees so clearly

The clearing of the storm.

Opening the self to receive

The Cosmic Stream.

The ancestors dance on

To the rhythm of the drums.

Watching and waiting,

For the Time of Awakening


Psicólogo Zulu


Psicólogo Zulu


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