Stillness of the forest 

In between the rustling of leaves 

At the end of long intonation of cicadas calls 

Just before the hornbill wings break the afternoon 

If you still yourself 

A sincere self 

Emerge from long forgotten recess 

Beckons a strange spectacle 

Colors break free and whirl in the air 

A vital force surge through the space 

To settle the colors lightly in precise proportions 

You will be astonished where you arrived