The old one awoke to blue skies
and warm gentle breezes from the sea.
He rises, stretches, and without a care or worry in the world.
Walks lazily down to where,
The surf of the sea meets the sands of his world.

He lounges in the shade of the lotus and the palm trees,
And smells the subtle and delicate aromas
of the orchids that hide among the branches,
Bold lotus blossoms and the honeysuckle and roses
Display their palates of colors
And release their scents
Mellowing his moods.

When he reaches to the right,
His glass is filled with nectar.
When he reaches to his left
His hand hovers above a golden platter of ambrosia,
That fills his belly and treats his palate,
To tastes so delicious
They sate his appetite.

And even as his palate and senses
Are appeased,
His eyes—oh his eyes!
Are treated to a sight seldom seen:
The sight of people,
not just ordinary people, but people
Who for one reason or another
Have not one care or worry in the world,
These people dance and frolic on his beach.

He lounges there, he thinks:
no happier a soul should exist than my soul does now.

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