So much charity by so few, we are
Forever grateful, songs of praise, no
Blessings forgotten, protection from
Windblown rain, grain for bread, clear
Waters, we love and are loved.
Drums beating, night fires burning,
What sacred path do I follow? Within
My heart, ancestors guide my steps,
Nomadic blood vein-courses. Ever-
Watching gods, I am alive.
Thanks for reading this second Tenzing poem.