The sound of the morning call of prayers as the sun wakes.
The morning sound of the drum on a holiday.
The traditional weddings, complimented with the most beautiful girls.
Walking miles and miles of green grass before laying and adoring the giant sun.
Drinking the freshest water that nature can provide.
When nothing was everything, and everything didn’t matter.
Running around forever young while the moon shined and the stars danced.
Staring the deep night sky, farther than any telescope; connecting every star.
When boys chasing girls and girls chasing fireflies became immortalized under the night.
The griots and sages wisdoms, as we laughed around the fire and the night grew tired.
Being terrified of the scary tales of sorcerers and entertained by those of the animal kingdom.
The sound of the rain battling thunder while falling asleep.
Sleeping to the sound of animals and wind feuding with branches.
I miss my village, I miss Lelouma.