On warm nights, I lie down
on a wooden dock beside the lake,
free to stargaze while I listen
to the music of rhythmic waves.
Daydreams and wishes,
hikes up steep volcanic slopes,
afternoons bird-watching,
evenings observing
turtles, monkeys,
fishermen, farmers,
and crocodile hunters.
What next?
Will I always spend
all my hours alone,
collecting visions, words,
rhythms, and melodies
for my solitary
whirlwind
of verses?