Of spirits and dance steps

The dance of the spirits is sublime

Rhythms floating just floating above the din

So you have to ignore other calls

You have to ignore the calls of jackals

And the wails of the late night owl

You have to concentrate every fibre

To follow its gyrations from the soulful

To the forceful and then somewhere in between

You strain every sinew to follow the rhythm 

Which your neighbour doesn’t hear

And your brother doesn’t hear 

But you are sure, 

Very sure you hear the beats in the hot noon

And in the serene evening

Calling you to partake in the dance of the spirits

Whose steps you cannot see

Though you can hear the prattling of their soles

Rustling amongst the dry leaves

Amongst the startled birds too wary

To dance the dance without drummers

The steps of the spirits are heavy and soft

Sometimes soulful and sometimes forceful

But you can’t see them

And you can’t tell when they are just nodding

Or when they are kicking the earth

So your sinews struggle to align

With the movements you can’t see

Even though you are very sure

They have called you to the dance,

This dance of the spirits.