When I Learned to Play

As soon as I pick up the sticks

I am transported instantly to

the happiest place I could pick.

It’s a place where

I can be my most comfortable self

without caring about the people there.

I get into the flow of the rhythms,

ride the waves of the beat

until I have memorized the algorithms.

I can feel the Latin grooves with my entirety.

I close my eyes

and play an even, light, cymbal.

Everything around me dies

away while my right and left foot alternate

and my left hand takes the clave beat.

One and two and

three and four and

one and two and

three and four and

one and two…

I drift off, almost to sleep,

but it’s a meditative one.

The hi-hat lulls me along

but every fill brings me back.

It’s my favorite thing to do

since that day, August 21

the day I found my calling,

when I learned to play the drums.