The Search For Meaning

The green jungle moves, the infinite waves. The beating of drums, the shuffling daze. Shaman are drinking, psychedelic brew. Falling into thought, where they are renewed. The sun peeking through, makes love to the leaves. Where the passer-by, has his own beliefs. To accept the loss, was the intention. But to be the loss, is loves invention. A young girl looks up, with dirty face. With hands together, asks me how to pray. For once in my life, I had nothing to say!