The crickets and cicadas drown out the mellow music as
hundreds of white butterflies flit aruond boulders and coconut trees.
The suck of the ocean, the roar and tumble
as it buffets the edges of this island.
Stray cats and dogs, I feel an affinity with all of them,
mewing from underfoot and watching with deep brown eyes.
Grains of sand like tiny pebbles on the beach that merges with
the grey rocks like water folding into the densest jungle,
a myriad of impenetrable green,
The ridge of the mountain spiky with coconut trees that lean outwards
to reach the cloudy sky.
Thatched roof huts nestled in the side of the mountain,
a paradise one dreams of, but never owns,
can never hold tightly lest it is gone in an instant.