My rhythm is off, but the beat is calling,
That tribal drumming, the earthen pulse.
A return to the roots of natural forces,
A long lost knowledge from ancient skulls.

The fire is dim, but is stoked and burning,
All shadows retreat, as I turn to ash.
The smoke will be cleansing as is the flame,
It builds brighter still, as it burns the past.

My blood will flow with the tides of the sea,
Each crashing wave washing myself anew.
My cup runneth over and fills me back in,
A rush of emotions to get me in tune.

My breath of the wind, steady and calm,
Connects with nature and settles this storm.
As light as a feather, as serene as the sky,
My soul like a cloud, shifts and transforms.

With roots dug in deep, my crown opens up,
Embracing the guidance of heaven and earth.
With gratitude I surrender over again,
To the endless process that is my rebirth.