Under the shade of the mango tree
We sat like Confucius pondering
Our path of existence
Like motor bikes
We found the path of least resistance
Insistent
On the meaning of the burning bush
We saw upon our entrance
First night in Hanoi
The construct of society
Culture in the making
Waking up in Vietnam
The beginning of a song
Long lines never carry
Quite as well as a wave
Paved paths travel to expected places
We face East and pray
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