HOME'S WARMTH

back in the hill country where I call home where wind speaks in many tongues where the cold and frost is constant company to a sojourner where cups of steaming tea and tales serenade every household every dusk where tolls of cattle bells and the music of randy he-goats announce the arrival of dawn we don't mince words of praise not do we sit around fires to spin tales of folly and foolish escapades for fire doesn't come easy and neither does words for your teeth are either busy chattering due to the gales of cold or chewing at the juicy fruits of the land or out basking at the rare sunlight or being paraded in laughter for mine kinsmen don't cease to be fun so in these strange lands I now dwell be surprised not when I remain mum for mine mind still speaks in the tongue the tongue not to be translated where each laughter has a name don't pardon my silence, understand it