That relentless pursuit Carried forward into the night. The fight for survival Long into the night. That fear of intense chill Fueling our bodies, Stoking our perseverance. A ritual each year; Skill of survival learnt From our forefathers and To be passed on to generation next. A skill that guides us on To new surroundings, A home far away. Finally! It is time! My first migration! Am so excited! The wandering spirit is charged, Eager to move on To a new destination; To a country Of sunny clime Of holy rivers Of forests and wetlands Of the land bounded by the great ocean. In new surroundings, Hoping to meet new acquaintances, New friends, New things to savour With my own senses.
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