In a sunny day of June,
A rambler comes to a halt by the window.
Looking down and beyond,
To a life so busy,
Under the clear sky,
And the bright sun.
Yes, it’s summer!

Inside the room,
Some lights permeate the thick curtain,
The walls are quiet,
Thought is restless
Heart is heavy,
Summer is chilling,
She’s thinking of home!

Far across,
Her thoughts traveled,
With fervent prayers,
Wishes and the rich anticipation,
Of recovery and healing.
Of the lost and the wounded,
In a place she calles home!

It’s a place often devastated,
Tried and exposed,
Both the natural and manmade,
Carries varied things;
From the selected bliss and misery of life,
Smiling folks, the country side's beauty,
The rich culture, its ‘acclaimed’ democracy.
And the troubled politics.

It’s one of the places,
Where she earns her life, learns to dream,
To fight and to continue living.
Some sweet countrymen, told her,
It’s not the perfect place,
And she said,
It’s the only one I have.

The sun may be shinning bright outside,
But the rambler comes to a halt,
Inside a room,
Where she feels,
The tropical heavy rain in June,
Ignoring the foreign summer,
Making her sober and deeply thinks of HOME.