A young Kimeti wanders the swamp alone
In search of its way, of its place, of its home.
"Shall I slither along, through the mud and the rot?"
The watersnake answers, "Thou Shalt Not."
The young one continues, unbothered, to roam,
Through the ferns and the moss, through the peat and the loam.
"Shall I hunt with my beak, with my paws swipe and swat?"
The owlcat answers, "Thou Shalt Not."
Growing worried and tired, the young swamp-goat gets lost
Night begins to fall and the ground starts to frost.
"Shall I flutter on bright wings from spot to spot?"
The giant moth answers, "Thou Shalt Not."
Dejected, exhausted, he falls to the ground,
Worrying now that he'll never be found.
"Shall I ever be home?" he cries, eyes full of salt.
The motherswamp answers, "Of course, Thou Shalt."
In search of its way, of its place, of its home.
"Shall I slither along, through the mud and the rot?"
The watersnake answers, "Thou Shalt Not."
The young one continues, unbothered, to roam,
Through the ferns and the moss, through the peat and the loam.
"Shall I hunt with my beak, with my paws swipe and swat?"
The owlcat answers, "Thou Shalt Not."
Growing worried and tired, the young swamp-goat gets lost
Night begins to fall and the ground starts to frost.
"Shall I flutter on bright wings from spot to spot?"
The giant moth answers, "Thou Shalt Not."
Dejected, exhausted, he falls to the ground,
Worrying now that he'll never be found.
"Shall I ever be home?" he cries, eyes full of salt.
The motherswamp answers, "Of course, Thou Shalt."
