It is the first time in my life that I’ve taken the time to sit and cuddle under the shade of a tree while lying on the beach. It is simply an exquisite experience. It means I’ve read three non-fiction books for pleasure this month. I must have been thirteen when that happened last.
Time waits for me
She’s not rushing or pushing
She’s singing a new song
Of breezes in trees
And reading in books
I cuddle within her invisible arms
And rest
Wondering why
Where had I gone?
Africa’s rhythm
Mending the doors of my busy heart
Opening and widening within the warmth of her ocean
So far away
I am home.
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