Hands perfectly in time
Arms perfectly aligned
Eyes staring intently
Focused on the blinking
Of the small red light
The time-keeper of sight.

The feeling of the vibrations
From the sticks, from the drum
The feeling of playing
Is a complex conundrum
Tap, Tap, Tap
Rap, Rap, Rap

Eyes on the light
Hands holding sticks tight
Heart on display
The drummer continues to play.
Tap, Tap, Tap
Rap, Rap, Rap

The sound fills the room
But never enters his ears
The drum’s magnificent sound
Is something he can’t hear.
Silence.

But he doesn’t worry
About the music’s precise art
Because the beating of the drum
Becomes part of his heart.