Where A Pack Of Monkeys Had Traveled

You Know You Are Truly Alive When You’re Living Among Lions.

In The Ngong Forest I Have Also Seen, On A Narrow Path Through Thick Growth, In The Middle Of A Very Hot Day, The Giant Forest Hog, A Rare Person To Meet.

Up In This Air You Breathed Easily, Drawing In A Vital Assurance And Lightness Of Heart. In The Highlands You Woke Up In The Morning And Thought: Here I Am, Where I Ought To Be.

As We Grow Old We Slowly Come To Believe That Everything Will Turn Out Badly For Us, And That Failure Is In The Nature Of Things; But Then We Do Not Much Mind What Happens To Us One Way Or The Other.

The Cicada Sing An Endless Song In The Long Grass, Smells Run Along The Earth And Falling Stars Run Over The Sky, Like Tears Over A Cheek. You Are The Privileged Person To Whom Everything Is Taken. The Kings Of Tarshish Shall Bring Gifts.