He came to me with wings floating in a cradle of raw honey
Walked miles by my side through thick tall forest to see the eye of an elephant
With vessel dry—he dazzled my eyes with water flowing from a dangling vine
From afar, he warmed my soul by his story untold through deep, dark eyes
His heart—large, his eyes ever searching
He was but a man, living in a village of earthen huts and grass-thatched roofs
Deep in the land of drenched rains and burning sun, where cotton trees grow tall, dense thicket surrounds, and drums beat to a different rhythm
His being walked softly through growing fields—
lit by the light of passing moons, bloomed by the heat of a red sun,
and greened by the drenching rain of an afternoon passing
So profound he was—far, far from others living in towers of gold.
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