it truly is a siren sound,
that constant mellow drum,

it is what makes children drift asleep,
when mothers hold and hum
•
we rely on it so dearly,
to keep us where we stand

it tends to skip from time to time,
when someone takes your hand
•
listen to them closely,
every resonating tone

your own personal orchestra,
made from fire, dust, and stone
•
feeding you from dawn til night,
they echo through your veins

they are nonstop like the oceans,
the waves when it rains