Muddy Confluence
The rains still come down at twilight
With the ease I gathered back with my mates
No thoughts at all on what could have been my delight
Had I stayed on in this tropical valley bed
What is reality, what are impressions
As I lay awake, with rekindled memories
of fondness, food and friendship as utmost expressions
of the most important of life's desirabilities
Countless hours of routine and persistence
melt into precious moments of reunions
The ordinary becomes special and not existence
The circumstance of a unique communion
To savour forgotten experiences
To sit at the same table
To ride on the same journey of shared nuances
And to realise that it was not before possible and able
With the ease I gathered back with my mates
No thoughts at all on what could have been my delight
Had I stayed on in this tropical valley bed
What is reality, what are impressions
As I lay awake, with rekindled memories
of fondness, food and friendship as utmost expressions
of the most important of life's desirabilities
Countless hours of routine and persistence
melt into precious moments of reunions
The ordinary becomes special and not existence
The circumstance of a unique communion
To savour forgotten experiences
To sit at the same table
To ride on the same journey of shared nuances
And to realise that it was not before possible and able
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