Sitting in a dugout,
Gliding down a river,
Looking upwards to the blue sky,
White, wispy clouds breezing by,
Tall jungle trees,
Close my eyes,
Feel the tropical sun upon my skin,
Humidity in the air, cool water against my hand,
Dangling fingers swim in the green, brown river,
A soft mist sprays upon my brow,
The jungle permeates,
Earthy, damp and musty,
A thousand years old!
The smell of a storm coming this way,
Sweet, sour, a bit of decay,
What do you hear?
The cry of a majestic macaw,
The wind moves the leaves of the palms,
The water gurgles as it ripples,
The sights of home,
The feel of home,
The sounds that call me home,
I hear the beckoning and I long to return,
Winding river, take me home!