you are lying down.
somewhere in east India.
you are on a soft mat,
under a door less roof.
the soft music of tablas
and the sitar
fill your ears.
you know you are at peace.
petals gently fall from the sky.
it is a warm fiery orange
evening.
the smell of curry
and roasting goat
fills your nose.
you
drift away,
into a deep sleep.