<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><div dir="auto" style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Drummers</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> <i> Let’s be playful for a moment </i></span><i><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> (We need it)</span></i><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Unbeknownst to biblical scholars, behind the tree of life</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">in the Garden of Eden, stood drummers. Now bear with this</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">outrageous claim for a moment and consider the notion that</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">after Adam and Eve grappled with the apple of evil and good,</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">it was drummers who chopped the sacred wood and hollowed</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">out the first drum, thereby soothing that theological schism into</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">the great-log-a-rhythm that still accompanies the sun to rise</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and the late afternoon shadows drift toward evening’s obsidian</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">crypts. Yes it was drummers who set the tempo for Joshua’s</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">trumpets with primordial djembes and congas as Jericho</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">trembled and tumbled while angels mumbled their shock</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and dismay at such a raucous display of rhythmic play. Yes</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">it is drummers, to this day, misconceived by critics with their</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">fruitless analytics who are better perceived by kids at play than</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">those snooty violinists who just concluded armadas of sonatas.</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Yes, drummers, whose weathered hands dance their dream</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">drumming riffs on wood and skin, are back in the temples, on</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">altars for moments where spirits need raisin’ or something</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">amazin.’ They will once again answer the call to spark the movin’</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and a groovin, the rockin’ and a reelin,’ and the cosmic function</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">at the junction where we sanctify with holy wine and sacred bread</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Some Rumba, Jazz, Samba, and Salsa, Flamenco, Fandango and the</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">that sensuous Tango, reminding us that we swing in a universe that</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">pulses and palpitates the yearning heart with the one great vibration,</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">be it final ending or primal start.</span><br><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- bruce silverman</span></div></body></html>