When all was bound in the insanity,
The joy of an uncivilized soul,
Bound by the happiness of the moment,
With no worry for what tomorrow holds.
The joy of waiting for the rising sun,
Starting the day at the egde of the cliff,
Anticipating the length of the rainbow,
With the love from the chirping birds on the nearby tree.
The hushing sound from the running stream,
Struggling to deposit its content in the waiting river,
Getting lost in the warmth of the solution it contain,
Washing from head to toe without considering the implications.
Welcome to my brown warm abode,
The bricks made from the earth beneath the cave,
The joy of the unconcerned soul underneath the thatched roof,
Shivering from the breeze coming from the north east monsoon wind.