I will remember you..

I imagine myself, on a journey

down the dirt road, under the open sky

when the folk tunes fill my senses

And as the newly bloomed mustard fields pass by

Then, I know, I will still remember you,

you will be the timbre of my song,

the blue of the sky and yellow of the mustard

the wind that whispers to tell me its tales,

and my hope on the road that seems so long

I imagine myself, on a monsoon night

stranded at the river, on a helmsman-less boat,

there, you will be the gloom of the clouds,

the sigh of the rain, the clashing ripples,

and my anticipation for light