I've lived in many villages during my time on earth...
There was the village of shame...
Filled with dust,
Degradation and dirt roads, probably because I always looked down.
The village of fear terrified me,
Surrounded as it was, by deep, dense forests and nightly sounds.
I never identified the wild animals that growled
And snarled, but I knew they must be lurking close by.
On the other hand, the village of love tasted like grandma's home
Cooking - yams, cassava and coconut milk simmering together in a pot
By an open fire,
While the village of hope possessed sweet
Aromas, like ripening mangos on the tree.
But the place I cherished the most was the village of gratitude.
It felt like a warm blanket wrapping round my
Shoulders, as I gazed up at the stars of Orion.
From this perspective,
I realized all the villages shared the same dusty, dirt roads.
Deep forests encircled them all...
With wild animals and ripening fruit a plenty.
In their bosoms, loving grandmothers always cooked over open fires,
While keeping an eye on their young ones wrapped in warm blankets.
So if their physicalities shared so many similarities,
Why did I feel like dancing,
Every time I stepped foot into the village of gratitude...
Regardless of whether the rain was falling or the sun shinning...
I was smiling.